How I am injured,
at the sanctity of man,.
How are we hindered,
by the rarity, we can

We see a light,
corrupted by us,
we need a brighter slight,
where sacredness is a must.

Rarely it's seen,
a man living by his dreams,
liars abundant,
but never the dreams.

Slowly decaying,
under no pressure,
time will pass,
without measure.

In a box,
alone with love,
future fleeting,
for all to see.

By the wayside,
across the bay,
people few,
none can save.

Time to end,
as false life beckons,
Poets lone,
langauge lessens.

I awoke in the morn and walked to the shore
But the sea was faraway, could be seen no more
The abandoned beach stretched far as the eyes
None else was there, it was lonely sunrise.
There was no wave crowning the beach
The sea seemed vanished by a vengeful witch
My disappointment I could barely hide
I was supposed to be on a lovely seaside.
The wind though swept my face
As if to soothe and calmly redress
My discontent at the barren shore
Seeking a sea that was there no more!
Though crestfallen I was not homebound
Rolled my trousers, climbed the sands’ mound
And then I heard the casuarinas whisper
‘We’re here as the waves’ murmur’!

Cutting up wood
Smells sweet
Smoky
Sawdust falling like snow
The foul vinegar of decay
Starts on its work
Chewing at the arsenic
Right from the moment of creation
Destruction sets in.

Feathers falling, flailing fast
As if they are dense
Like the star you fill up
Or that fills up you?
She can't tell the difference.

This bird struts pink skin
For all to see
How thin her neck seems to be
She looks around,
"Did you blow off all my feathers
because I perfectly blew off your ****?"
But all that was left of him was the smoke

This life, this life,
This sick, one-sided knife...
You either cut yourself,
Or those around you.
Despite the fact,
You may not mean to.

Just is the way it goes.

I may not have faith in me
anymore,
But I have faith in God.
So go home now,
Thank your god
for the life you have.
Live for the future,
And not the past.
Live for only
The things that last.
Your long term happiness,
Not the short.
Though in this life,
The weary resort
To empty things,
Up we can go.
Let us rise.

Get up now.
Get up.

I needed someone like me,
When I first fell in love.
But instead, I got someone like him.
And when I realized I wanted
Someone more like me,
I ended up getting
Someone like who I
was.
And now
I'm someone like him.
And he (the new one)
Is someone like I used to be.
But never will be.
The first one ruined me.
He ruined me.
Or rather, I ruined me.
I'm sorry.

In the cusp of your hand you hold her mind of gold
slightly dinged and tarnished
often overlooked for brass
nonetheless, she shines.
Stimulate frequencies that had been put to rest
excavate and bring forth buried thought
whilst you playfully unravel compromised secrecy
a love intellectually seeking you
her heart is already in your pocket.