My spirit yearns to
Leave this godforsaken
City for good

To build a couzy chalet
Hidden somewhere
Amidst the alps

And to watch the
Seasons change while
Playing guitar on the porch
With my dogs at my feet

So why does a quiet life
Keeps getting away from me?

Poetry
May seem a solitary
Pursuit.

But,

In every
Poet
There is a myriad
Of multiple memories,
Classic characters
Distorted demons
Vying to be released beyond the vault.

To take root

In your minds and hearts

Forever a part of you,

And me.

I long for You —
I pant for You —

Desperately, I scream, internally,
Till my face is blue —

Here, there is no water,
Only rock, capturing no dew;
But devastatingly reminds me:
There is no home but You!