Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Out of the mid-wood’s twilight
Into the meadow’s dawn,
Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,
Flashes my Faun!

He skips through the copses singing,
And his shadow dances along,
And I know not which I should follow,
Shadow or song!

O Hunter, snare me his shadow!
O Nightingale, catch me his strain!
Else moonstruck with music and madness
I track him in vain!

The flicker of a dying flame
When life is only a game
Waiting for darkness to fall
A void of voices will call

I never wanted to play
Just visions of every day
Where beauty could never fade
A place where nobody stayed

So nothing comes of the past
Reckless thoughts always last
As broken down machines die
But only human, living a lie

Did you see me within the cracks
A mirror discarded on the tracks
Reflection of the impossible me
Without a home to ever be

Somewhere there is an empty shout
For now the flame has gone out
Nothing left, gone without a trace
Now just a ghost without a face

My angel,
Do not fly so close to me
For I,
Would clip your wonderful wings
Keep you my prisoner
Locked away in a cage
So I could gaze on naked beauty
Your innocence,
Mine to corrupt,
To use as my will
Burning you with pleasure
But your beauty always shines
My darkness is blinded
Still I take,
Refusing you the key
My angel,
I am a demon

Paper mache hearts
Stepped on
Broken-
As people walk on.
Not enough glue
Not enough paper
To repair them all.
Not enough-
To place the shards of our hearts
Back together.

The beauty of the butterfly withers away in the first evening lights,
In the melancholic and languishing waltz of its hopelessness.
The sheer exhilaration of its colours disappears in the shadow of this night,
To keep only in memory, the fragrant shades of its heady loveliness,
And to be unable to bloom in this vast and dark nothingness of life.

Desolate beach---
trudging alone,
an old memory
with a hook sharp,
pulls him backwards,
wobbly foot prints
on soggy sand--
instead of her petite feet
playfully filling each,
puddles appear,
reminding
the pools of tear
in her sad eyes,
at the moment
they parted for ever
without even a word.

I* leapt and dove into the depths of indigo
Night spilled carelessly onto my sky
Darkness smothered with tides of indigo
I almost drowned and whimpered a cry
Grappled with the vagueness of indigo
Out of the *blue, I'd emerge with a heavy sigh