Every day I look

at the landscape, so unreal --


if one doesn't go there.

Heaven allures us,

a scent of higher honey --


draws us to full height.

Freedom!
I scream for it,
a desperate cry against the expectations that binds me.
I’m suffocated by the facade of relationships,
the hollow cackle of deceitful souls.

I am enraged!
Fuming at the system that seeks to define me,
at the degradation that clings to my skin
like an unwanted shadow,
a constant reminder of my insignificance.

I’m weary of pursuing aspirations
that crumble to dust in my grasp,
unattainable visions that lead me
to the edge of despair.
I yearn to exist without ambition,
to dissolve into a crowd
where my identity vanishes,
where I’m a specter,
unseen, unrecognized,
lost in a realm that remains indifferent.

I long to flee this cursed present,
to leap into a tomorrow
that remains a cruel illusion,
where no one acknowledges my presence,
no one cares,
no one trails my footsteps
or feels the pain of my sorrow.

I am drained—
exhausted from the humiliation
that gnaws at my core,
tired of everything I once held dear,
weary from dreaming
only to fall and fall again.

In this furious pursuit of liberation,
I don’t merely wish to vanish;
I seek to obliterate the chains,
to shatter the delusions,
to discover a place where I can breathe,
where I can be whole,
untethered from the past,
and finally reclaim my reality
with a fury that cannot be contained.

the animal
within not within ego
human illusion

I am comfortable inside my head,
invisible borders,
self-imposed rules.

They keep me safe.
An illusion of security.

But when the walls
inevitably
close in on me,
there’s nowhere to run.

Trapped inside this fragile paper cage.
Nothing keeps me in,
yet everything does.

Falling in love – like a leaf caught in a whimsical breeze,
Falling short on my words, falling away from myself,
Falling apart into pieces, to find a place in your heart…

I always try to match the taste of your tongue, each time
We ignite a spark beneath the glow of hopeful affection –
We’re adrift, far from the depths of true love; yet we declare
  It with every beat of our hungry hearts.

The heart can be cruel – yet yours is a tale I’ve been unravelling,
Woven with verses and hidden sonnets. You might have glimpsed
My own, despite its rough edges, or the rhythm it desperately
Tries to convey.

How wonderful it was to share the illusion of love.

How many lose their way
in woods that stand in grace,
in everlasting silence,
like in a fog shrouded,

that can’t be pierced with eyes
and thickens as you stare,
so wanderers, unaware
of how to cross these parts,
their constant search for signs,
they fear they cannot bear.

Once felt led astray,
they pick up the pace
and turn words to prayer
with inner strength united.

A voice that casts its spells,
to brace, fight, and repel
apparitions and wraiths
that it had just invited,

to make a rightful claim
on what it cannot gain,
as it cannot be lost
by conquered trees and ghosts.

Then back to where it started,
to woods that stand in grace,
in everlasting silence,
like in a fog shrouded.