I promised not to love you.
Annihilation.
No love.
My soul is crying.

I promised not to love you.
Destruction.
No love.
My body is fighting.

I promised not to love you.
Extermination.
No love.
My shadow is shouting .

I promised not to love you.
Extinction.
No love.
My kisses are dying.

Dark.
Cold.
Bus stop.
Me.
You.
No love.
Love.
Lov.
Lo.
L.
No

when we met there were those forces
that kept pulling us together
now I know it has been gravity
between matter
and antimatter

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I haven’t known healing, maybe one day I’ll begin,
instead I’ll drown in feeling even though the water left is thin.

So take your worn out excuses
and your words that hold no weight.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting fuses,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
a blaze burning great.

Don’t mind the crying, and pay no mind to the ties,
I know when you’re lying before you even realize they’re lies.
Now a picture has been painted of a world with only one pair of footprints,
a reference that’s been tainted and shaded by the darkest tints.

So change your act just like your handles,
and there’s no morality to debate.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting candles,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
but I’ll still have to wait.

This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
or maybe from Hell,
who can tell, anymore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
it didn’t bleed or swell,
but you know, that it’s sore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
this one is my death knell,
it shattered me down to the core.

I’ve had my heart broken so many times,
that I’m depleted of metaphors and running out of rhymes.

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I’m growing too old each day to never gain a win,
but you know they say nothing gold can stay, maybe next time I’ll stick with tin.

‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
it’s our defined trait and state.
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
cremate and annihilate.

There is noone above me
Beside me
Infront of me
I am my own anarchy
My inner soul of
Wisdom for that I have lived
For long and
Suffered twice as much
I wandered through the
Gazing abyss,
Flashlights of every submarine
I swim with my inner coward
The color of your eyes
Has been withdrawed
In the arms of sleep on a
Moonless night. On a
Windy day
Thunderstorm took me away.

an ark
of Noah
would disembody
a silvery
horse with
seraphim whether
res publica
rained on
earth with
quiescent nomads
and to
cloud their
creation in
planet of
thieves with
periods of
sporadic sea

Stellar mistreatment, meltdown; went down
Spectrum gushing, waving ocean
Exploring deplorable nether regions galore
Roots uprising, doubling be-headings

It's profound!
On the grounds of treason
The sound of suffering
The soul of season

Shimmer and I, be one
Till it gets to my guts
Blurting, hurting needs the new one
Replicating, replacing me dust to sun

Now, whole life turned into pun
Perfect one knows no one
As I lay as a stardust, have none
Cosmic wind blew and now begone

illusions abound

what's not an illusion?

is all in life an illusion?

is life really nothing
  but a man sitting at a computer
  typing his existence into existence?

could he type himself into
  whatever existence he wanted?
could he dare to type
  the thing he feared the most?
   the lack of existence?
    and whether such a state
     was type-ably reachable?

he wouldn't dare
the sentence would elude him
but it would gnaw at his mind
  it would sit and wait
   and then jump out
    and try to be typed
     but the man wouldn't let it
like a caged bird
  a self-destructive bird
   one who literally would vanish
    if it flew from the cage

if that bird knew its potential fate
  would it still want out?
would the caged bird still sing
  if it knew what awaited outside?
   not just doom
    but complete annihilation

SHOULD the caged bird still sing?
should it accept its fate?
should it reject its fate
  and try to escape?

what would the caged bird do?
what should the caged bird do?
and if the caged bird is nothing
  but a part of the man
should the man listen
  to the caged bird at all?

what about the other thoughts?
  the thoughts like cheetahs
   sprinting through savannahs
  like dolphins
   leaping from the sea
  like digital aliens
   quantum leaping across the universe
more free
  than that bird
   could ever hope to be

should those thoughts have more say?
or should the caged bird win out?

will the caged bird win out
  if it's such a strong willed beast
telling that man to try
  to be bold
   to type that sentence
    into existence
     (or non-existence)
  just to see what happens

the heart would speed up
  man's heart does speed up
the thought would jump forward
  man's thought does jump forward
the fingers would begin
   a slow deliberate march
    across the keys
  man's fingers begin to march

the breath catches
the bird sings
the cheetah halts
the dolphin floats
the aliens know
  and yet they watch
all stops
all waits

the fingers tapping at the keyboard
  now the arena of the whole universe
as the man types
  one key at a time

as he's always typed his existence
  INTO existence

and wondered

if he could type his existence
  OU

Dark V.S. Light
We portray darkness as pain and suffering.
We view it as a place of evil.
But what if that darkness is home.
What if that darkness is an escape from the light.
What if the light suddenly became portrayed as pain, and suffering. What if light became our evil.
A place where light became darkness and darkness became a place of solace, a keepsake, something we hold onto.
Light creeps into our dreams, and our minds.
Like a parasite latching onto a host for survival, light wants to take over.
As it creeps into our thoughts, telling us that light is good, that the light wants to help, wants to keep you safe.
Darkness is all you’ve ever known, you haven’t felt pain, and suffering, nor anguish.
The light wants to change that, as it watches above like a hawk stalking its prey, or a snake blending in with the shrubs and dirt. How can you trust light, light brings nothing but destruction and annihilation, But… What if the light is what you are missing.
That hole in your heart that you could never fill.
That craving you’ve been having, but could never satisfy.
But in the end, light rejects you and leaves you with nothing.

A gloomy midnight—I rested
beneath a starry veil, where
drenched sky shrinks
hiding a tear, flowing,
latterly floating.

Silent the tear is
to honor the nature,
to honor the rain,
making it annihilate
in other aqueous.

As sky turns,
the tear gets burnt
with all compassion,
casting depression
towards the fear.

How peace would've,
if it stayed in
my eye,
its coffin.