She stands in the kitchen,
while I slice her flesh away,
eroding a parasite, she's
the perfect picture of decay,
I'm birthing something new,
extracting the real me
from my sinews,
I've killed the girl you knew,
It looks like she's
psychopathic like me too.

Love,
Anti.

A fickle heart
Begets a fickle
Mind of fickle
Thoughts

I am a rambler that takes his job seriously
Nestled under the bridge away from light
So that those who cross fear my words
Omniscient among the belief I am alone
Married minds think the rambler crazy
No one dare tell me, unable to join me
Isolated instances have come and gone
A story the rambler holds in secret
Curable only by hiding it in his rambles

Maybe I've taken more time, than would you
to ponder and consider...
And maybe not, but perhaps I do,
to learn the probable outcomes,
of times, through and through.

There is a sacred Geometry to fortune,
a forbidden set of plans!
Words and worlds put in tune,
and miracles put in clans!

For I stand parallel to the world, where I'd exist...
A formula of division, and slanderous gifts.

Exploring as i may,
every possibility...
Every dance...
Burning, as i sway,
Every paper to work,
every glance to a stay...
Every memory, every stance...
Every blazing day!

Every lingering minute, I'm carved in stone.
Every spoken thought, is a glimpse unbourn,
into another moment; a candle blown!
every moment; there,
I rest in bed...
Brings upon a universe,
that is here once, then is shed...
Withered like tears, that once they're gone,
this word I have left, is all there is... In stone!

All within the very dialectics of a chance,
this riddle it seems, given... And every dream, a trance!

Sweetest dreams, O' darling you...
for it seems, the mourning has come,
as words are silent, and kept a-queue!
Gentle replicas of our thoughts,
humble as this dew,
brings the world a smaller place,
and brings my words to you!

The pieces that arrange together
are strange to our dialogues, dear...
And surely, they are few!

A.r. Bazian

So easy to hurry
Get everything over with
That i find it hard
To sit back and watch the beauty right in front of me at the moment
Impatient minds are something of the past and the present
But it's more of a enigma

Take me where the evenings of ours were once vivid,
Where our conversations weren't as cold as the frost;
To the world we once livin',
And the sea we once got lost.

Tell me you want me,
But don't want to stay.

My love freshly broken,
In need of something more.

A new hope could save me,
A vision you've revealed.

Two halves of this exchange
Around a delicate question.

You showed me the power
Of two lives in sync.

A melody of minds in balance,
A stimulating song.

A could've been, should've been, might've been
All hurt more than a was.

Help me rid myself of this
Painful thing we call Hope.

If our paths will not cross again,
Please don't let them touch.

Mrs Little Spider.




spinning little spider making all your webs;

you make em coz you're hungry then you make some baby little eggs.

what's wrong little spider you're looking very old;

your children have all grown up but you look sad sitting on the window sill gettin chilly and cold.

settle down little spider I'm sure you know that life to you is held so very dear;

and when you go to heaven you know that your children and I will shed a little tear.

so good night little spider with your spindly little legs;

I've enjoyed your company very much and thank you for keeping the flies away with your beautifully symmetrical perfect spinning webs.


Goodbye............................. Mrs Little spider.