Elegies entering the lists, in absentia, the prayer of blood broken at its spine. Ah, how minding days trampoline and joust, like those days beyond recall thrown into the fire. The persistence of memory is a series of F-stops, the fountain of youth a spring of well-being and then forever nothingness. We've reached the prophetic day, I feel the coming wrath in the whites of their eyes: I dream of wires and sleep by godless windows, the sound of untamed rivers chanting passions misplaced and of the absence of belief —the true ***** of man. Take one last look at the structure of morality before it closes down. One last look... ~
There’s a thin line between hero and villain.
Everyone’s a hero in their own story, But someone must be the villain. Both are born through trauma and grief, Yet one rises above While one brings others down. A gentle push from fate Spirals an innocent mind. Eventually a choice is made. The proverbial line is drawn. And teetering on that line Is the indifference of man, Waiting for their push.
All the words I want to say
Balled up, I throw away Because at the end of the day It doesn't matter anyway What will it change if I were to say The things in my chest, boiling away Coiled up, as if it were to say I am going to explode any day
Most of the political world
needs to reevaluate on how indifferent neutrality and tactful compromise does not amount to equal measures in a thriving democracy.
healing is not easy.
some days i allow the sadness to engulf me like an avalanche. feeling the pain in each and every one of my bones. other days, it’s r a g e. a fire that refuses to stop. decimating all in its path. and then, there’s the joy. like gazing at a sunset. knowing that choosing yourself was the only way to survive. and i am. s u r v i v i n g. i’m not sure where the next destination is. i’d imagine indifference. and i can’t wait.. oh boy, can’t i wait. to not give a single **** about you.
My heart waits for something
Something that can fill it At least by 1 percent My soul aches for something Something that can reduce this agony At least by 1 percent I long for the feeling of something Something that can make me live At least by 1 percent
Jealous of your frozen heart How you don't feel things
Why cant I be like you?
Flowers lost in measure
At an outstretched hour Born sightless in the once Sacrosanct hedgerows Picked belatedly --And invisibly so-- Taken from their family To unconditional surrender Upon a cold stark table Where those assembled Finished off love with their meal --And invisibly so--
I was skeptic when people says
'Loving too much will change you' How can it change me when I only sincerely show her my heart? But Now I believe in them.. You know why? Because when she touch my heart I never felt anything only indifference And it change me into someone I never knew