At the eve of another summer
I found myself in a Paradox
Longing to painfully suffer
due to a beloved lost vox.

The greatest pain for the greatest joy,
quite the paradoxical alloy.
For a voice to be pandora's box,
fate of the shattered heart boy.

The promised call, refused in past,
For no heart could possibly endure,
is steadily approaching, at long last,
to ellicit a heart-rending overture.

An opera of pouring pain.
Even the sad tears cry in pain,
but everything cries in vain,
for her heart was washed by rain,
and will never be mine again.

The ambrosia out of reach.
Its scent alone is enough,
to relive blissfull memories
and dreams of a future... a bluff.

A world where you're next to me,
but i'm forbidden to hug, kiss
or tell you i love you more than life,
is not my world, but Tartarus itself

In my world it had a simple name:
forgivable human confusion,
led by pressures, human, all the same,
inconsequential to our passion,
once ours, now mine.

Our worlds shan't collide
in any future fate.
Your friendship i must decline,
to be reborn and not desintegrate.

The green hills of my heart,
the blue ocean of my eyes,
the starry sky of my mind,
the nature masterpiece of my soul... Is gone.

All that remains is a heavy chest,
containing Schrondinger's heart,
with a decaying undead hope,
to both reunite and forever stay apart.

must be time
to write again,
my soul itches
to feel pen,
imprint paper
in a way meaningful

must be time to write again
my word pile is building
out the back, needs a good cleanse
and the I may well find a gem
lying there waiting to be used
some word; like allocentric,
being the opposite of egocentric,
meaning looking to support
and grow others before yourself

must be time to write again
to put thoughts down
in a pattern that may
constitute rhyme
that may take the reader
to another place or time
that may even ellicit a tear
or a smile, maybe even
make someone's bad day
better for a while

must be time to write again
if only I could order my thoughts
that tearaway from me and hide
in the deep dark woods,
must be time to corall them,
bring them to heel
must be time to write again
for to write, for me... is to feel

Incantation! Magical phrases, singing praises. Bring forth spirits of the conscious universe.

Infused, embodied within the words the power grows, until a breathless exhaltation gives form to energy pure and vital.

Repetition. An affirmation coalescing amid synaptic transmission. Neural pathways open, provide a conduit between the ethereal and the physical.

Coursing through the enlightened mind, emanating radiating. Life body and soul.

I bring the cosmic gift of creativity, and , with divine inspiration I write.....

Conjure textures, ellicit emotions,  provoke thought. The amalgamation of the collective unconscious. I am the wordsmith of a thousand ages.

the drops that do not fall
erode the skull; groove the brain.
poke holes in the eyes, ellicit migraines.
with no one to unlock these muscles
that squeeze you closed.

the dog-pile of stress,
like missles slowly breaching a dam of another well,
until breaking-point.
crackles of lightning cracking the scalp
and pathing, chaining twitches, down to the feet.

Grounded.
from then to the healing waters you must go. Nature's icy, cold, frigid, soothing,
teary shower cascading, dancing into the hair. Then, steamy hot droplets tingling the spine with prickling pleasure.

one can't sleep during this period of sickness, you can only attempt to survive. the pain's immensity contrived with human will. Paralled, entirely, in its labor.

Pain and relief, from nature's true kiss.
The one you can't have kept, but fleetingly.

every other's yawn
would ellicit one of my own in return
i blush embarissingly
to share another's 'shame'
my craze, a harbor hoping it's a
                                   helping hand.
and atop a tall white spire the eye
      of some mind i think is mine
    gathers pieces of mindset puzzles.
at times, a
willing cohesion. same beast of mana.
   i hope it heals to share some burden.
    atleast the empathetical air
   tastes sweet to us modern mages

I won't open the door to my mind,
I will not open the door to my mind!
The lustrous handle tempts me,
But i won't open the door to my mind.
I'm in ellicit wonder, questioning what lies behind
That soft tissued grey door that's been there since I entered time.
Maybe it will surprise me and be a woodland mouse with a soul so kind,
Or maybe an ill beast has been lurking, waiting, prowling since dawn for its time to shine.
Once again I won't open the door to my mind
I don't know if I believe what I say
Cause I fiercely desire an answer,
But NO NO NO i shouldn't,
but it's just there,
Calling me forth, luring me in,
a trap i set out for myself...