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There are red storms inside me;
All these, in a drained solitude.
Pains, need not exceed to feel;
but even to breathe, I feel ill.

There was a child, there were stars--
yet I have not yet been born.
What might they expect from me;
When what they see is just sanity.

Normalcy, which I think absurd
That they condemn me as awkward;
I do not conform to their scars,
They do not dear me in their hearts.

Mornings are hard, and afternoons;
that I feel home at lonely nights.
Their mighty skies are unjust to me,
They ruptured my arts, my poetry.

Nights are home to my lullabies;
Unheard songs, unspoken colours.
My pride, which paints and writes no more
Hath never felt loved before.

These scars, that once threw me
Continue their flamboyant dance.
The London streets are no longer;
I have been left in here, forever.

These holes, that have corrupted me
Craving for my souls inside out;
I am not loved, not a beloved
Life has had of my love enough.

The swarming moon, and lilac sky
Shall mean no more when I die;
All around me is commonness,
No madness, no rains, no happiness.

The sheltered sun and dire summer
May they thrive in their jolly days;
May love bloom again when I leave,
and when I’m gone, shall still it live.
What is there to love;
What remains for me?
What it means to feel
What it takes to leave?

What it does to forget
What it takes to recall;
What does a voice mean--
Why does it ring often?

What might love be
What hurts--but what does not?
What has pain made us
What wound has left us?

What does paint say
What do words write?
Tell me, tell me now--
I do not know how.

Why shall we stay
at the end of the day;
What made us leave
What does it mean to live?

What to promise after pain
What to seek after regrets,
To laugh after tears;
To see when rain clears.

What does time keep
What does it let go;
What went loose, went stray
What shall die then?

What does voice tell
What do thoughts do?
Why do minds believe
Why do eyes see?

Why our hands, not feet
What our hearts, not chests
Why does blood flow;
Why do feelings grow?

Why seasons change
Why do years go?
When all stops at night
Why is it hard to know?

I am a child, a little friend
Confused by love and pain;
Too much darkness, and villains
Altered, forlorn, inane.

I am a child, knowing not
Bitter secrets and retorts,
What fantasies mean--
What they have been.

I am a child, a small fiend;
From seeing much disdain
All around me was fake
From a life no-one would take.

I am a child, a rogue hand
I envy their lyrical land;
I wish I knew more sound
Before my years float aground.

I am a child, a mythic
I am unsatisfied with poetics
I used to sing a lyrical song;
Not knowing it was wrong.

I am a child, a cynic
All that is left is antics;
Yet they shall not want to see me
I am petrified here, lonely.

I am a child, a breath
Such a breath shall die;
Even years later, that
When blue fills the sky.

I am a child, a wand
My magic has not betrayed
I want it today, at hand
Then it came to be yesterday.

I am a child, a sonnet
All my paint was in mad red;
The color of roses and dread,
The one love to be met.

I am child, a lover
Although love takes forever;
Who hurries me to say--
Who cannot feel me today.

I am a child, a writer
My fantasies last as ever;
But not knowing to write
I shall learn over the night.

I am a child, a poet
I have travelled wide roads
The roads that heavens gave;
My mother used to have.

I am a child, a star
There seems to be knots in hearts;
I heard a myth, a story
Which are not always pretty.

I am a child, a moon
I hath to understand soon;
What love sees, what perils shed
A tale too swift to be read.

I am a child, a heart
I am with whom night has parted;
I live now, a day at once
I live and play under the sun.

I am a child, a love
That love itself shan’t be enough
I can see that as brightly;
The world has none more to see.

I am a child, a life
Lives are now bland and rife
With all chains and darkness;
No joys stay, nor brightness.

I am a child, a truth;
To look deep in my youth
And find that love hath gone;
Like a morning rose that drowned.

I am a child, heaven;
The whole world feels like hell
And in no time shall dwell--
My poetry is my last haven.

I am a child, paradise--
In such worlds, only live lies;
Love is a fault, a failure
And hatred is the cure.

I am a child, a triumph
With a victory in my doom;
And when faith is gleaming,
I start brightly singing.

I am a child, a fear
They fear that love could still be here
They fear that I could be heard;
They fear I could conquer the world.

I am a child, a fair
And which goodness is unfair?
When all spells hate, why shall I care,
Fools and wicked ran at my dare;

I am a child, a fire
The song of triumph is just, not dire;
My joys are near, closer--
Love is to dwell again, ever.
A tribute to my favourite vampire duo of all times, Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan.  

With a heart soft as the moon
With a light breath on fire
I fly soundly across the sky;
I leap from time to space.

In the weight of the morning;
At the longing time of nights
I hear murmurs in the distant;
Hoards of sirens, churning deaths.

I jump about all the dark trees;
Searching for the blood in thee
When thou may perch ‘cross the river
Damp hair glossing thy neat forehead.

When thou read alone, and just
Recite lines of dried sarcasm
Pondering in tears, all over again
Until nights drain away in pain.

When thou stand alone, and hear
My cold footsteps are sealed close
To lie about, and drink from thee
Feeling triumphant, breaking free.

I hunt, I tear every safe flesh
Thy stoical screams sound fresh;
I paint rude love, dread and sweet pains
All wild in thy wavering voice.

The stutter, the wail be gone
All that be left is death alone
Adrift; devoid of branched lives
Reeking of dust and sand and wrath.

The veins, the fleeting beat is torn
All consumed by the whirring nights;
A new vampire hath just been born
A birth of the devil, the dark skies.

I turn to thee, soaked in temper--
Those angelic eyes unborn wonder;
Thou kiss me in a mythical embrace
With a heat only I can see.

I bathe in thee, drowned in red light
Feasting on love on a summer’s night
Thy Grecian soul lain quiet and sweet,
A rose of lavished, pleased chasteness.

I am burnt in thee, drawn to the moors
Thou, drifting to me lyrical months
So as to spend times in utter youth
and feel hours with a fluent grace.

I am born to thee, to my heart
The earths, grounds that are now ours
To spend paces at wanted hours
To be a young vampire again.

I am bound to thee, to define me
That I might love ardently;
To live with thee by my side;
To turn days into a cold night.

I am true to thee, to be mine
That I cherish love and lyrics;
To be more, to have enough--
To replace all cries with love.
I could not find love inside thee;
I could not seek, I could not live.
I did not have the strength to leave;
that when I went, a wound broke me.

I could not bear light upon thee;
You went straight, far away from me.
I could not get inside of you;
to make you see how I was true.

Goodbye to thee now, at last
Your sun and fire have burned to dust,
You have dispersed into thin air,
Unheard, unseen, untouched, unfair.

Goodbye to thee, while time is hard  
Your days were left in the dim past,
When I wake again, you must leave
I have enough reasons to live.

Goodbye to thee, and forever
Though it still feels like yesterday
When Coventry, from my chamber
Frosted white on scarred wintry days.

Goodbye to thee, that it is now
I have forgot your song somehow
Fed and left to my tomorrow;
and such a light day has not grown.

Goodbye to thee, and written pain
Through all such grief and annoyed rain
Through all suspecting space and colds
By the toxic wounds my heart holds.

Goodbye to thee, and the white lies
You have attached to all the skies
Might never rest in peaceful sleep;
Their thinned sockets shall always weep.

Goodbye to thee, to white lilies
Grown dusks on York’s rivers and seas
Retreating to my Northern star;
Whilst distant, nights dwell not far.

Goodbye to thee, to scarcity
Lives lacking roses and kindness,
Love of bleakness and enmity
Hearts of unborn happiness.

Goodbye to thee, the whole of you;
To arise, and embark myself anew
To the land of a thousand lakes--
A love story our hearts shall take.
I abandon all tears;
My conscience seeks peace.
My wholeness has gone;
Gone like my faith, alone.

The youth and serendipity
The blood that breathed in me
Now turning into wrath;
My coined life is virile and mad.

What is around me;
All lost in promiscuity;
Here, there shall be no heaven
Here, love has no words—nor passion.

Who speaks about me,
To understand or see me;
All are sinking into shrapnels,
And the lonesome heat feels like hell.

All is part of dark tunnels,
Channeling out into brown seas,
Living by unseen funnels
Unfelt by the breeze.

All is not blind, but sad
Shrivelling in bold air,
Their youths, I cannot wed
But lonely nights are fair.

I withdraw all affairs;
That they shall subside
And blend into those lights,
Those I have never cheered.

I hold my breath anew
I have been here to the core,
The lenient feelings that knew;
I should not stay once more.
On a wintry morning back then,
I met thy handsome eyes again;
Wand'ring close to blinding blue lights
Looking as lovely as cold nights.

On a wintry morning like that,
I walked' fast as charms could have made;
Eyeing thee there sent my cheeks red;
Filling my ***** with hot sweat!

Thou were glossed in a black jacket;
Striped leather boots, and a brown shawl!
With hands locked tight in both pockets;
onto the sleepy moors thou rolled.

Then in one breadth of lazy breath,
Thou caught my shades among those groves;
Thy charm as immortal as death;
Thy spell as eternal as love.
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