the life you have hitherto Refined
whence love shall wax and wane
cannot know Hephaestus's grief
for you and he are not the same.

now Steel your restless heart,
and from it, Forge the demon's bane
lest your senseless grief, in Fires
of boldest Mettle, wrong you all the same.

I lived and loved and lost it all
In just a single day.
I began anew and watched it fall
In a not-peculiar way.
For, you see, I've loved before
And seen it wash away,
So wherefore shall I try once more
In maybe one more day.

My heart didn't break
When you texted me "we're through."
It broke too, too terribly long ago.

You'd push away and longingly stare
At those with a nobody
pretending to be someone.

You closed off your life
And blamed me for respecting you
For giving you space.

But now, your grindstone letters
Which have crushed me for so long
Merely ground the flour
That Will, one day, bake a beautiful cake.

I wait for the day,
That may never come,
When I can say

Stronger now
Better now
Repaired now
Myself now.

But like the dust in the mill,
You've stained the flour, tainted the cake.
You got what you wanted, but still you take,
With the impunity of the grindstone, crushing the flour.

And that is why the flour never wears on the grindstone.

Where's the divide
Between wrong and right?
At an officer's side
Or the unarmed's height?

Who's in the wrong
When everyone is?
This violence does nothing
Whether trans, gay, or cis.

Why won't they speak
When the world is ending?
When majorities win,
The rules begin bending.

I don't want to leave behind
The world I've come to know.
And I refuse to return blind
From the land of ice and snow.

The land of painful suffering
I've come to know so well
I must depart for fairer lands
Then return to blazing hell.

The issue here, I don't exactly know.
Its fire never scorched me
Its barbs have never scratched me.
All I can tell you is that

I don't want to go.

You smile like a wolf about to ****.
Your cruel, sharpened fangs barred in spite.
Your voice was gold, your white cuspids alight.
You smile at your prey; we deer stand still.

I know the smile shall end where it will.
I know it never reaches to your eyes
And I know, like one bitten once or twice,
That the wolf closes its eyes to ****.

The wolf leans in too close, panic sets in
Stumbling through apologetic speech in
An effort to get somewhere else, again...

The deer springs into action, can't win
For wolves hunt in packs, the wingman swoops in
Now trapped by foes unbeatable, I'm slain.

The world is quiet here.
Woes are never near
Because someone here
Will always lend an ear
Or give a cheer
And never leer.
So even though it's roaring, dear,
The world is quiet here.

I guess I was bound to be
The next one in this game of three
The cheater, cheatee, and cheated
Just guess the one which slew me dead.

Reading the: Pauses
Uncompleted::: Clauses
Various. Punctuation.
Syntax structure; revelation.

A flick of an eye can change the world

A pastel droplet
Against the verdant green leaves
Autumn is coming.

Alive in this place
Of the dead and soon-to-be.
Crossing River Styx.

A dark star awake
The coal eye of my heavens
A pitch black morning

Hello, friend.
I'm back again.
Alone again.
Undone again.

Hello, friend.
It's me again.
Do you see again
What you are to me again?

Hello, friend.
I'll just go again.
To the void again.
Without you again.

Goodbye, friend.

War does not stop for the good man who dies.
War is too cold for the good man to warm.
There goes his leg as artill'ry takes his arm.
War does not stop when in pieces, he lies.

War does not stop for the child who cries.
There is no umbrella can hold that great storm.
The tears of the orphan resound in the form
Of the news that is silent to pleading and sighs.

War is a hellfire like none else on earth.
When war rages on, who minds the hearth
In home which must necessity bind
For no one is list'ning, no one is kind.

The demons have run, the children have sobbed
For men unknown, upon whom, the red gunfire daubed.

What in these symbols has power?
None of my letters could build you a tower,
But something within the screen of my phone
Has mass, has inertia, has song, has tone.

Where are the electric lines?
Neither hither nor thither, whichever one signs
But for some reason, I can't help but feel
That my electric lines are something more real.

What are the squiggles that wave from afar?
A symbolic cookie from an imagined jar?
Or are they a prize for forming a speak
That, through my squiggles, may squeak?

Hello. I am words.
I have taken your voice, stolen your swords
But still you read onwards
Though be it for naught?
For I am just words. But you truly
Are not.

Don't tell me how to live my life
Don't tell me what to do
Don't tell me what you've learnt
For I shall learn it soon.

Prometheus.
That's what they call me.
Your heart, phoenix fire.

Pots with feelings littered here
Some with courage, others fear
The day we know will draw so near...
But death is certain, crystal clear.

Pots with cracks will herd their steer,
And, from the cracks, eyes peek and peer
The un-chipped *** just cannot see
Through imperfection, we find beauty.

The gentle apathy
Which, up to now,
Had carried me
So softly through the forest here
Abruptly stopped when you drew near.
I couldn't help but be interested
In everything you'd do.
The world had grown old on me,
But somehow it seems so new
But only around you.

7,150,000,000 people see
1 day in
7,150,000,000 ways.

That is how
1 day becomes
19,589,041 years.

Do nothing, think nothing, be nothing.
Synonymous.
Do something, think something, be something.
Not.
Do everything, think everything, be everything.
Impossible.
Do the impossible, think the impossible, be the impossible.
Goals.
Do, think, be.
Life.

A dream is eternal. Immortal. Infinite.
A life is not. That is all.

Singing with a stolen voice
Borrowed tongue, the song of choice
Would have to be
Of ice and fire majesty.

To run from here on others' feet
A differed meter, with which to meet
A girl whom I've known before
Though now we drink and gamble more.

Her persona, then, was gently sore;
I see none of the scars we bore
As children, though now I see
The scars she left now complete me.

Ah, the darkness.
The warm, calm darkness.
That satisfying darkness.
I am nothing here.
The world is nothing here.
Everything is darkness here.

The one I love is somewhere near.
The distances are nothing here.
There is only darkness here.

We stay
Strong, Do no
Wrong, these fools'
Song is too
Long.

That hate
Preach, destroys
Me, my friends
See, I feel
Sting.

You say
I'm a bad
Rhyme but through
Grime, I keep
Time,

Don't slow
Down, lease my
Crown, forfeit
Sound for those
Hounds.

An alto.
Singer in the choir.
A face in the crowd.
But not.

The Alto.
Every eye sticks to her like glue.
The face of the crowd.
And so.

I thought I saw
Late one night
Obsequious in
Voluminous light
Emotionally distressed
Your tears cascading, shining bright
Opposed to black mascara left in
Unscripted tracks down your face.

My demons swim.
George's can fly.
Mabel's can shoot
Jimmy's won't die.

My sorrows are deeper.
Judy's weigh more.
Fred's chained him up.
Anne's heart was tore.

I can breathe lighter.
(Ah, that's where you win
From the contest of sorrows
One cannot rescind.)

Whose pizza here, I do not know.
He's partying in the dorm below;
I do not think that he would mind
Me taking seven slices home.

I met your little sister
On my walk home from school.
Told her I was a dancer
She thought that's pretty cool.
She wore your little jacket
From those days which we so loved
The slice of you returned to me
But, like with the whole, I stood idly.
Only you have slipped through my hands
Twice.

This is the body,
The meter is the heart.
The wordsmith, ever godly,
Looks nothing like his art.

If the heart guards love and purity,
And the brain controls intellect,
What doth, I ask of you, reside within the kidney?

Not rhyme, nor reason, asketh thee,
('Tis true, I must confess) but why
Deny its place to the kidney?

Power embodied in the arms, you'd see
Within a man, immediately,
But it seems, unfortunately,
That none respect the kidney!

For wherein doth cleanliness stay?
Surely in the mind somewhere, shorely lock'd away
And what of pride and greed, if I may,
Inquire where they rest today?

They lie in the foul'd heart, entombed for eternity.
So what attribute, dear reader, can attribute
A shrine within the kidney?

Another Thermopylae to defend.
Our love's a battle we can't win.
And so I'll die a Spartan's death,
You'll leave me with out any breath.

To see you when the fires stop burning,
To see you when it is done.
The city we raised and razed together,
The world which won't stop turning.

Defeat is vicious to your mind
Intellect cannot stand
To see the paper cities burn,
To see your dreams and mine.

I sit here at my brother's stone
Beneath which he doth rest.
I fiddled upon our rooftops
While the Visigoths sacked Rome.

Fire rising in my cheeks
Fanned by insignificance
The work I do is never known
Since I'm not on stage to dance.

Goodnight, my Princess.
Goodnight, my every hue.
Goodnight, my moon and stars above.
Goodnight, my darling, true.

Goodnight, my universe,
My everything and more.
Goodnight, my trusted faithful,
And hark to hear the score.

Goodnight, my Beautiful,
And trust my words are true
For lest the sun rise suddenly,
I'll start to write of you.

Goodnight, my single Only,
For it is to you whom I have swore
Never to lie, never to cheat,
Never to late return.

Goodnight, my dearest sunshine,
'Till dawn shall bring us to,
And dream of me, my Princess,
As I shall dream of you.

I used to send you goodnight poems,
Each and every night.
And you would post them on Snapchat,
To serve as a nightlight.
But now you have forsaken me,
I cry my life away.
I miss and hate and still love you,
Though you threw me away.

To sit. In tears.
Alone.
The one who used to wipe my tears
Was there. With him.
With them.

But I.
Would spend.
Prom night. At home.

No one asked.

I fear the bass and treble.
The Stuka's nasal voice ringing out.
The tremulous earth beneath two treads.
The planet itself was set to tremble.

I fear the detonation.
A whistle in the darkness.
Harmonizing bass and treble.
Imminent inflammation.

I fear the bass and treble.

The windows, lo, are boarded, shuttered.
As is the heart, with final flutter

Black eye-shadow.
Black-eye shadow.

The pain of betrayal.

3,454 and a half.
Hexagonal.
Tessellated.

2.
Heart-shaped.
An infinite rhythm.

Imaginary man, go. Here is your passport.
The imaginary city will not miss you.
The paper woman will not kiss you.
The snake oil train will too soon depart.

Imaginary man, weep. The furnaces tore you 'part.
Reality here is fain to **** you.
When no one else can cry, will you?
The tears in past you'd always dry, now refuse to start.

Imaginary man, flee. Your soul is free of this evil fort.
Their guns shall never train on you.
Their gases cannot ****** you.
But here you stay, a ship which burned in fallen port.

Imaginary man, die.
Liberty and Innocence cry.
Reality shall pay no mind.
The child's slain on concrete floor.

Did you bring your passport?

There are 1.5 million of them.
Words, that is, in English.

Only three matter:
I is a pronoun.
Love, a verb.
And you is more important
Than all the rest.

One for every five-hundred-thousand,
But you is one in a trillion.

A flaw in the crystal spire
Of our deeply entwined hearts,
Much like the flaws of corundum,
Alights a ruby's fire.

I had heard long, long ago
Of the language of the Eskimo,
Where cars and drywall lack a name,
But snow and snow are not the same.
For, you see, in Eskimo,
There are a thousand words for snow.

By the shore I'm wont to roam,
I see the water as my snow.
From crystal clear to stormy blue,
The ocean holds a thousand hues.
Brackish green and sunset red,
The whitecap thunderous demons bred,
Seductive black on moonless nights
And wind-whipped tops plateau with white.

So maybe I'm an Eskimo,
But too warm-blooded for the snow.