There was once a time when the poetry I wrote possessed much feeling. Now when I write them, the feelings only bleed out, rather than erupt like a geyser. I rarely feel the “chills” I usually get when listening to my favorite songs, nor do…
“When we love, we realize there is more to the world than simply ourselves. For if all we knew to repair was ourselves, we may as well live alone on some deserted island, never seeing any other reflection besides our own. In the glassy waters…
What worldEver wielded, aside from the one stained in black?Longing is our token, to betterment,Away from the association of togetherness.Like love, mistaken for a parasite,Like loss, perceived to be foremostIn line. A coming mileIs not what we walk.It only holds us to reap a new…
Love all, when I call,You, to the furthest cliffs,And say, that you will stay,To speak true words, of no dismay.People seem, and also scream,To force cues,To force signs,To places full of danger,Will you be the one, to fulfill,The only one, who has become still? Your…
Beloved, to describe what is before me,Would perhaps offer me,What to me, craves the plenty –The multiple aspects to your beauty.And as I sit before you, and before my gaze,Towards your marvelous captivity,You show to moon and star,A gaze full of idle awakeningTo what thumps…
