“Another night in London; I’m alone again.
He’s out there somewhere thinking of me
Or maybe someone else.
Come stand next to me,
Pour yourself some virtual tea.
I’m sitting in the garden waiting,
Waiting for you to convict yourself
Sitting here, loving him and hating you,
You who thought only of yourself.
I loathe you, but I must please you,
Must outwit you to save him
How does it feel, now you’ve enslaved him?

“I take you both back to our sitting room to sort
It out. Say it’s a domestic but we know that’s rot.
We sit across from each other, he’s silent;
I am not. I analyse your past, the lives you took
And you stare at me with a killer’s face,
Your hooded eyes and rubber mouth,
With its fake smile relishing death.

“You know I know the real you,
But he must too.
Can he forgive you?
He must do it or
One of us will once again
Be shot through by you!
Which of us will it be?

“But this is just a calculated pause,
In a long con; do you realize
How close you came to ending up in a box?
You aren’t the only killer in town.
You have angered others beside me;
If my brother could howl, he would have;
He just sneers and has you followed and
Every move you make is being trapped.
Your dowdy clothes fool don’t me now,
Since I remember your assassin’s gear,
So clearly, just before you shot me.
And I know you weren’t just being nice,
No pistol could be that precise.
But now the question comes:
I give you the choice I never had:
Do you want to live or die?
Your husband won’t want you dead but I…”

She stares him, black defiant eyes,
He marks the seconds with fibrillating heart
He has never known her, from the start,
Do killers possess some hidden cloak
Like his lover’s naked mask?
Her theory of self-portrait disguises
Leads him to a sudden change of plan
“Why didn’t you come to me for help?”
He had forgot how well he lies.
And he sees that she knows it in her eyes.
There is only one solution for both.

Sojou-
rning, sco-
rnfully, to J-
upiter's red s-
***. The circu-
lar, scarlet rage,
it, roundly, and, r-
ubily, rotates, into
whirlwinds, of ste-
aming, magma, hot.
The firef-lies, lay, t-
heir eggs, in; truth,
and, hope, that, d-
eceptions, hatch.
The batches, fl-
y, never, brou-
ght to, light.
Oppressi-
vely, the-
y, stay.

© poormansdreams

In the shadows deep, a hidden self resides,
Shadowy moments, secrets carefully hide.
Masks conceal, terrible, masterful deceit,
Hiding desires that hopelessly tear the soul apart.

Each stolen glance, stories endlessly untold,
Understanding fully the consequences, remained ruthlessly uncontrolled.
Embroidered shadows, i dance through the night,
Soul aflame that seeks freedom and its light.

Secrets unfold, longing leaves for peace,
Quiet nights, where mystery shadows cease.
New pathways unfurl, dawn ascends, a radiant light, dispelling night's despair.
Hope's strength sustains me; I step towards soaring heights.

Trapped within shadows, as I cast off the disguise,
Facing endless fears, with courage in my eyes.
Freedom awaits, reaching beyond the crafted scene, revealing its embrace.
Constraint Path, yet mysteries still remain, a mystifying presence.

Whispers of doubt, an insidious refrain.
The weight of the past, never-ending ache.
Devastating reminder, for goodness sake,
As Overwhelming loneliness creeps in, stealing the day.

The masks fall, after a long day of charades,
The freedom sought, tragically feels distant and far.
The cruel illusion, leaving hideous scars.
With cunning hand, he builds enigmas that are hard to find.

Concealed within that emptiness, darkness springs.
Their arrangements symphony, the instruments, played at his own will alone.
Threads of silken fate, a tapestry completed.
Chess master strategist, emotionless with cold and calculating mind.

With deep calculations, strategist orchestrates every move.
Checkmate is now declared, the final game is at an end.
For endless nights, the game continues.
That even resigned on his power, he was trapped within a dream.

In this ceaseless, darkly deceptive game, a bitter truth appears.
That even in my invincible mastery, i'm utterly empty.
Weights of countless broken hearts, never easily forgiven, and burdens that are hard to bear.
Archon's orchestra fades, but the echoes remain.. does he hear them? or devoid of shame?
The nefarious price of power, is the wearing of many masks.


Do we deeply, truly know who we are, or are we forever lost in the labyrinth of masks we create to hide our true selves from the judgment of others?

There's a cabinet somewhere,
Stocked full of happiness—

Jars of sugar to make the bitter
Truth less harsh. This cabinet

Contains paper—recipes on how
To make a smile appear,

But it may fade later like the old ink.

This cabinet

Has mental canisters cradling
Candy but it may leave you with

A mouthful of holes.

A puddle formed,
A deep scarlet red morphed,
Beneath me it lay;
Matched the red of my cheeks,
The red of my shoes,
The red of my nails,
There it lay,
The dark engulfing red of the rose,
Such a gorgeous sight,
Such a strong might,
Covered in the pale white snow,
But what is that?
Dripping from my palm?
Is it the same red?
The colour of wine?
It can’t be
It was so free,
Such beauty cannot be so harmful;
It was the thorn of the rose that cut me so deep.

In the name of love..
in the name of   the Value
you bring to the family

In the name of  just how  good
you can make Grandfather feel
on that worn-out, old brown chair

What were you when he started...  four?
He said he loved you
He said this is what love looks like

And you took it into your little mouth

And in an instant
a sweet little, innocent child
became an un-feeling, little product

Of the un-feeling  love of man

Warped into the fabric of your earthly form
My eyes turn blue at the thought of the soul
Roots of worlds unbeknownst
Cower to the dread well known

Through velvet vails of perception
Burns the fire of deception
Flames spread through ivory towers
Fiery vines crawl between blooming flowers

Let me skin your flesh and break your bones
Even should the fire take me whole
In your mangled body lays a thing we long forgot

Should our forms collapse
Would we find forgotten jewels of the past?
Or should we see unmoving stones?
Choose your fate or break your bones

Oh love, do you still linger, harboring affection for me, or is it but a delicate deception—a sanctuary crafted to shield a love that dwells more profoundly within me, an enduring presence woven into the intimate depths of my being?