The phoenix spreads its wings and flies away with my heart.
Torn from my chest, chasing desires.
I dream to be under my precious phoenix's wing.
To one day love once more, to rise from the ashes.

Crazy as a box of frogs they say
working hard night and day
drinking fast talking fast
idiosyncrasies his way

Where intellect meets madness
you will see there he resides
with his technology abound
that never leaves his side

He's a poet musician and killer
all wrapped up in one
crazy as a box of frogs
is that son of a gun



By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

what's wrong with you ?
they ask me all  the time.
i'm wrong  with me ,
i'm too much to live with .

The biggest lies I've ever told

"I'm fine."
"I'm tired."
"I just want to be alone."
"No, I'm not sad."


"I love you."

but the worst one,
**"I can do this."

A poet is a nightingale
Who sits in darkness in the wood

He sings to cheer his solitude
With sweet sounds noone's ever heard




"In His Land of Dreams"