Smoke rises from his lit cigarette,
The air heavy with ash ridden breath.
A lighter flash from across the bar
Left as soon as it came

He leaves a lonely figure
And greets the cold hugging his coat.
Under his feet the snow of past
Has turned to water once again

He hails a passing cab
As his feet mourns the snow

what a candy of a song
at times it's short
at times it's long
you see I cherish it a lot
to say the least, it's all one's got
to each his own
of course
with some regrets
and some remorse
but also love
of which one never has enough
and so I sing this song away
every morning
every day
years and months and weeks
unless I'm sick
or struck down by bad fortune
but even so
it finds its way back to this weary soul
and lifts one up
from bottom straight back to the top
oh what a song it is
it's often miss
it's often hit
and I shall only wish to keep it lit
a little longer

it's my genuine luck  
to often be out of stock for dinero
the engine of everything in our time
contextomy prime
and it's not that I have chosen this way of living
I just take it as a given, take it as it comes
see no point to grumble about it too long
here's a possible title for a possible song
where am I in comparison to King Kong
for the ground upon which I stand is not very solid
hereby I refer to that financial black hole in my wallet
a passing phase, cut to the chase
yeah right
try to deliver it to anyone that has ever cried
as for my spirit, I still can steer it
still got enough loving in me one better believe it
just getting old I suppose
hairline much thinner, soon to be bald
so what
for as long as this soup ain't too cold
I'll keep on floating in this brave new world

yes God
I'm lost
cannot see yet through my skin
but I sure feel that I will soon become a ghost

and what if I
stay trapped in here
forever wandering the Earth
would you agree if I to say
that living often is a curse?

yes God
please brighten everything
and everyone
with your everlasting light
let us not fight
when darkness takes it's toll
and you are out of sight

who's gonna save us then?

if you could show me that there is
a little more to this
with that, I then shall kindly follow
as if there will be no tomorrow
nor any other day
I'll change my whereabouts
will rest my head high in the clouds
no longer troubled by old doubt
on any given day
say, have you ever felt the way
heart feels when knows that has to go
but longs to stay
and is it right
to let go of many things that one might love
when the grip is tight
what do you say
if anything at all
is there a way for us to change
what we cannot control

I’ve been thinking about heartbreak
If I should call it heart take.
Because when I think of you I can’t decide
If I want you back
Or just the peice of me you kept.

it is a meaningless curiosity,
to wonder where you went.
the anonymity of the future
seems to disembody what came
and went.

and i sat, and wept,
and inhaled what your cigarette bled.
there, lonesome, where
two sparks had once met.

a fire so bright that  
dripped kerosene where it stepped,
was put out by time,
and i observed as it crept.

i did spend restless nights,
and i prepare. more will come.
but trust me my dear,
one day you’ll know where i'm truly from.

just as you told me we were,
that there’d be no more “us”
as the sun rose in morn’
and then set off towards dusk.

the light will dismiss,
like the flicker from a chalice,
my skin will thicken
like mountains on an atlas.

and i will rise, and i will tremble,
as my words craft me a temple,
colossal in height, and treacherous in-depth,
where my scripture will live, and in solitude kept.

but you’ll hear, and you’ll listen, and you’ll reflect on my image
as i watch myself glisten, from you and beyond.

on that day, understand my duty as an artist,
and why my memory of you will last.
as the suffering turned to art for my future
will be composed of our distant past.

-melancholicreator

Daylights were so much
than expensive goldbars
with your arms securing my chest
in the twenty-fifth of May
covered with comfy bedsheets
and you as my everyday scenery,
my healthy breakfast,
my vitamin A.

But nightfalls were so much
unaware than missed shooting stars
in clouded firmament
with your eyes refused to stay
growing cherry blossoms
as I hope that your feet
became regretful
for stepping to the nothingness
to the process of forgeting
until to the complete unknown

— marion.