Today would have been a perfect day, For us to be together! You know, maybe it’s just the weather, That threatens to change its kind, Unless it’s now or never. Do you think you want to cross over? There aren’t any fences to climb, No broken glasses, No barbed wire. You could, like the mysterious… Continue reading The Perfect Weather
Burning stars on moonless skies, Earthly souls, but the earth denies. You are dead! Buried well under! Hideous truths, mysterious lies. For how do you know where they go, Have you ever been there before? If death is all about dying, And if I am all but lying, Then tell me, dear human, Where is… Continue reading Where Are The Souls?
When it felt like it was the last time, My eyes would ever see another sunrise, Oh, it just breaks the heart to feel so broken, And if only I could make it right, But I am so going to give up now. This is not my time. This failure of a heart is mine.… Continue reading When Life Gives You Lessons
When the mourning moon will outshine the distant sun, When there are many trespassers, yet keepers none, When nights will be unguarded and days disguised, When society is strange and solitude prized. When you want to die before your time has come, When you’ve loved a few, and hated some, You’ve been tried and tested,… Continue reading Smalltalk
I heard. Even though I had clasped my trembling hands, Over my deafened ears. And shut my eyelids so tight, That not a single stray particle of light, Could pierce through the dullness of my dead eyes, To tease my sorrows and fears. I heard. Even though I bit hard, And ripped the air between… Continue reading Strange Afflictions
When comes the day when the world is one, And people unbounded and merry. When no babies wash ashore, limp and dead, And when no souls are wounded or weary. When the times are better, in a sense, That a baby girl does not raise her hand, And with quivering lips and alarmed eyes,… Continue reading To My Friends from Other Worlds
Before I proceed to say anything about art, I must make it known at the very beginning of this monologue that I am not an artist. I just draw and paint when I run short of words to express how I feel about a particular scenario or a situation that enacts itself in my life.… Continue reading What Art Means to Me