I am tired of the world judging me
because of my petty weirdness
I am tired of making fake promises
I am tired of pretending like everything makes sense
I am tired of kissing the devil's face
and climbing up hell's fence
I am tired of lying about being depressed
I am really super stressed and i have lost my faith
I feel like there's dynamite inside my chest!
with declining health
in peace I'll rest...
I want to be alone
in my zone-
i sing a song...
I want to be alone
as my inner personalites get along-
smoke a ****...
I want to be alone
Rolling stone-
There's nothing wrong...
I want to be alone
Screaming "I DONT NEED THE WORLD!"

O here comes cupid with his glittering golden wings,
Under her command to strike down all the powerful kings,
not with hatred but with Love,
She has everybody hypnotized by her beauty,
She is a Queen... her eyes are made of Jewellery,
Her presence the closest to heavens,
and Her voice to ears sounds like oxygen,
she's Venus De Milo,
QUEEN
She's an earthly angel,

She's fantastic,
she's the opposite of cataclysmic,
An uprising cosmic,
perilous hypnotic,
QUEEN
she's nothing more but Majestic.

Somewhere between night and day,
she wiggled from side to side
then pushed and stretched
until each petal was opened wide.

Painted in beauty
she's a symbol of grace
gently swaying in the breeze
planted firmly in one place.

Waiting....
              waiting
to be plucked
               and caressed
full filling
               her passions need
                         waiting…  
                                     waiting
                      in beauty's pose
with ancient secrets of old
       blinded by her sight

she is....

The Fire and Ice, Wild Rose
~

My tears draw the
aerial view of a thick
wood, where the hands
of a ghost, carved an
easel whose flavour
brims my mouth with
crimson and purple.
Inspiration.
My tears draw the
shattered background
of a blurred photo of
green patches hanging
on an empty road.
Grief.
My tears draw branches
of olive trees kissing the
foam of the sea of sigh and
whispers.
Melancholy.
My tears draw palm lines.
They read long life
and well being.
Betrayal.
My tears draw the shape
of his eyes, wide open on
my consistency, as vibrant
as a melody of an arcane
chant, the fingerprints of
his protective gestures,
the circle of fire of his
embrace.
Love.