Dead storms.

The storm is all dead, Instantaneously gone, Shattered by the winds: Broken glass in lucid hands, capturing sun rays alone. ~ for storms will come, and storms will go, but you will make the sun shine bright on yourself with the very things that your storms will break…

Night break pt.I

The glorious pines stand,In their battle scarred gowns,Taller into the starry sky,Belligerent and brown. A mystical aura,Drifting through the air,Ambrosial and damp,Complementing the moon’s flair. Enchanting music plays,From the orchestras in the sky,Little flickering fireflies fly,as the old peaks sit by. Gurgling creeks of silver flow,Laden with fish and toads,As this verdant moss ever so…

The grainy monochromatic photograph

A fading red heart on aDusty cover page of anAlbum bound with memories ofPeople holding hands, and ofEyes perhaps happier thanThose staring at them, because, Sepia tones and tattered corners,Black and white and worn out borders,Have eyes that smiled at each other, notThose that smiled at cameras, for Pictures cannot just wait to start, How…

I am a poem

I came looking for a place to write upon your skin,But it was far too gentle.To hold the weight of my words. I bought a sheet instead. I went hunting for words in your precious smile,But it hid pain far too vicious.For me to even tame. I bought a dictionary instead. When I finally came…