sorrows clouds gather
souls breath does envelope me

leafs descend like tears

Austere, aged trees standing since years.
Shrubs, grasses and wild flowers abound.
Similar in appearance, grave after grave.
Serenity everywhere, tranquility surround.

But matter is different from beneath the earth.
Serenity is just an illusion beneath the skies.
Let not the perpetual calmness deceive them.
All those who look with their worldly eyes.

Their deeds accompany them in their graves.
All alone the dead ones never dwell.
Grave is but a garden from gardens of heaven.
Or it is just a pit from the pits of the hell.

If I somehow
***** this up, and die
in some stupid, boring, clichéed,
romantically tragic way
while I'm still sort of
young and
sort of attractive, and
you are, too,
I hope you
**** on my grave,
howl profanity at the couldn't-give-a-**** sky,
and curse me inside-out
for being
so derivative and
predictable.

Sometimes your choices may deceive you
Don't complain..
They are your choices..
Choices to be written on your grave

Green grass and
sunny days.
Overhead,
the squirrels play.
Birds in the sun and
fresh soil dug.
A brand new stone
of grey.

In doom and despair
She smiles as if to laugh
A bulge of fangs underneath
Hidden but in plain sight

A pain felt deep
Like a needle piercing
But yet I am calm
As if in the eye of the storm

Blood creeps and crawls
A song on the surface of my skin
A choir draped in crimson
Singing a melody of crows

Fate can be cruel
A love looted
At the point of a stiletto
She knew where to strike

She drove it deep
Into skin, into soul
A chasm so fathomless
What an abyssal *****

I was butchered
A pine box aroma
I can feel her eyes
Piercing me as she shovels dirt