The heart grows warm as the fog is lifted. While the warm light rises above the sun, enlightening the blinded but gifted.

Elated by The smell of lilies, swaying with the wind while caressing the skin, enchanting the soul that gently breaths.
The mind serene, a breeze of blissful thoughts. Joy being the kiss from nature at peace.

As the day retires the moon provides a sit. Now, gaze at the sunset while the lilies retire for the night.

Our wealth an unfaithful wife, she's sooner gone when perils knock.
A bridegroom to poverty you may find yourself. A glutton, not a meal will she spare.

Our vessels, dust that longs for dust, in daily decay.
Our habitats are pedestrians in paths of typhoons and wrothful waves.
Our families are cups of bliss but a well of dismay.

We dull the mind in sewers, with each sip an illusion of joy resumes, as sorrows sleep.

A well of eternal bliss longed for having rejected The Owner. The springs of life freely flows but sewers we have preferred.
The spring of life flows freely the invitation has been shared.

Malignant Mindless Maternal, Maliciously Moulding murderous Motives.

The Paternal parted prior the proof of pregnancy. Parturience posing as a poignant peril.

On the highway of anguish, desolate and melancholy—
a thunderous stream of metallic behemoths ravaging the route.
tragedy waiting impatiently like an honest thief.

Heavy feet embedded into the tarmac, wales of twins echo from the womb.
Tears of the cloud cleansing twilight sins. Labour screams drowned by the rain. Baptising the abandoned infants.

The storm departs as dawn embraces new life.
Weary eyes meet frail hands as kindness kindles hope.

Am I not more than just letters and alphabets ?

I blossom flowers and array them in colour —
beauty to be admired,
a river to wash away sorrow,
a whisper of hope for tomorrow.

In a web of scandals I am weapon — for truth, for lies, for bottom feeders.
I shift the views of mankind,
I give birth to leaders.

I’ve felt the gentle hand of a lover,
the pain of a broken heart,
the tears of despairing minds,
and the fears of villainous victims burdened with sin.

I've witnessed horrors in hollow places.
I'm forever in an abyss of blissful sorrows .

Through countless centuries I've been a mirror for reflecting notions and emotions,I confess
I am a donkey exhausted but allowed no rest.

I await the day when the last man  lays down his pen and
welcomes the grim reaper as an old friend, I too would be able to finally rest.

The silk of nature the gentle hands of  
   a loving mother placidly rubbing
                      swollen feet

The crystal of murmaids shimmering
   ashore mirroring the rainbows as
     though a priceless gold infused
             with diamonds of God

I'm lost in bliss gazing at the beauty
        of this magnificent field of
                     transparency

Cold and without words,thoughts
  or freewill. They stuff me to satify
         they voracious appateties.

     Cold and without a say, a plan
    to break away from these bonds
       I stand still and be led astray
          To places which they stay.

Cold and without complain eletricity
     runs wild in my veins they say
         it's to keep me alive but it's
                To distort my mind.

Cold and without care if I ever dared
       myself to leave, to death they
              Would Starve indeed.

Down a path where arteries will meet the scythe.
Deceased silhouettes suffocating in defeat.

A spark struggles to illuminate the way before the feet.
cloaked in disbelief, conversing with grief.

Climbing an empty ladder,
dreams clustered beyond reach.
With worn bones aiming to reach beyond the known peak.

The well of inspiration, the whisperer of words of wisdom washing away woes and wounds of wallowing men and women.

She imbues lost and broken hearts, with bliss not a drop of ink is waisted as her skill is demonstrated.

Passionate and proud, we ponder after she writes. She's the master of imagery and the Queen of Poetry.

Empty,
vacant notions
evicted, the land lord
dismissed them. The tenant is left standing still as though the world has been pludged into voids of deep mists.

In an abyss of shadows no glimpse in sight for thoughts which might rescue the notionless mind

As the rope begins
to look friendly wishing
in the ground he may be burried..
a voice breaks
bonds and ideas are wildfire, a disease
corrupting the mind with tranquility erupting the heart with serenity

At the shore of the ocean I saw
a penguine flapping it's wings climbing the wind,
left the sky shattered
Into pieces I couldn't breath.

Feathers fell from the sky and
lifted what was left behind.
I closed my eyes and continued living blind.

Standing still
Crushed rampaged
  metals collide the face
  splashed with guts of the
      masses Massacras being
            routines in all routes the
                   scenes sear the eyes
                        as light flares
                     before the wrathful sky
                 Consuming the night.

           The day is reborn
      the night's sin erased with
  cloths of sorrow, black
bags already gone but
  not forgotten, pardoned
     only when crevices bloom,
            with holes deep
               enough to be filled
                    by the rain.

Sometimes I wonder where I should truly be
No X on the spot, no key to set me free
The past clouding me I wish it would leave me be
Nothing guaranteed, my soul held in captivity
Every corner reminds me of my past activity
My loss of personality seemingly lasting an eternity

Lost and confuse hope mizzles
destiny becomes kind
faith extends a helping hand
Ink sinks in my mind
words become alive
imagination spreads wings and suddenly I can climb the sky
my destination is home
made of potent imagery
the only greeting I know
being Hello poetry

Abandoned murals across the boarder, the walls still painted by war. The scrap yard a pile of torn limbs, needles embedded in phalanges divorcing finger from nail the soil still grieves .

Infants don't see the sun.
Autumn leaves, with fleeting lives.
a thousands hills with wooden crosses rooted in, What is beneath?

An old man sighs before the last breath departs
Chasing a wind of memories escaping dark pasts. Hands mirror fire remnants, scatter across the vast lands with red tears immersing the white grass .

Deep wounds on my back, I'm a gallery of scars. Take a gander feast your eyes, a tarnished heart is my signature.

Vistiges of my soul dangling on toothpicks, dinner well relished by friends foes glimmer with empathy. Malice pleased, who is my enemy?

The excrement of animals drowning in the sewers, is that the existence, the best of self I can only pursue?

A warrior's last breath asking for help. Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand,
Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand?