Crimson Mills


Shades of crimson,
that bleed light into the blue.

Surfacing a darkness,
That engulfs you.

Embracing this moment,
That blurs like a vague memory.

Capturing an entity,
That  is built to remember yet exists to be forgotten.

Sleep Child, Sleep!


Sleep Child Sleep

Sleep Child, Sleep,
For I wouldn’t know how to etch your eyes.
The wake I held for you not so long ago,
The bath I drew for you yesterday,
The music we unheard that last hour
And the dreams that we couldn’t dream today.

Sleep Child, Sleep,
For I wouldn’t know what to say,
If you asked me how the world looks without you,
I would keep chanting gray.

Sleep Child, Sleep,
For there is so much you shouldn’t see,
Like the stench that surrounds you,
Or the secrets that eat me away.

Sleep child, Sleep,
For I would never give you eyes,
Lest you catch a glimpse of me,
Or the death I couldn’t keep at bay!

Maybe it’s called Tribute.


collageSitting at the grave of another,

Reading their words,

Not said aloud,

Not whispered either.


An ode for the brief time when we were together;

Searching for you,

Nothing as exact, nothing above you either.


Traveling so far,

Hearing another church bells ring,

The gauntlet hangs over,

Time changes the music that images bring.


Blinding the possibilities with older scenes,

It all comes down to familiarity,

Reborn with you,

Living this life as another me.

He who was …ummm…AWESOME


He starts with a coffee a day , then builds it up to a double digit count , just so that he could indulge in a vice that isn’t a vice.

Then he would  start a Story, so trite that they would build up into a parallel stories , by the end of the day all he had left were the impromptu endings.

Yesterday he wanted to travel to Siberia, today he bought a ticket to mars, But all he does right now is build up plans to jump of the ground.

First there was Summer, then there was June but April was who he truly loved.

He found hidden treasures and bartered them for memories , then cried himself to sleep for dreams were his reality.

He had no job, he had no fame and he had no happiness.

He smiled when you did and was in a brotherhood of the ignored or was it ignorant ?

He died ,loving himself to the point of distraction and that was that.

It is what it is, escapism you may say but this is THE END