“Don’t you just hate it when you analyze yourself

And find

You are a walking cliché


Just like everyone else

Not so special

After all”


He said it with a smug smile

And I wonder

What stereotype –


What mindless category

We fall in to



“Boldly we too shall

Pass through the same

Valley of dread


Throwing stones at our brothers,

Torture ourselves –

With our own minds creation”


As I make the claim

His eyebrows lift

And I return his smirk, where it belongs

Greener Grass

Stroll through the gates

Greener grass there

Meeting corners



Fleeing winds of change

Glazed eyes closed

Sinful wearisome



Fractured hearts bleed black

Staggered drunken pose

Hurting feverish



Compose a letter goodbye

Signed within deceit

Lips sealed


Mercy Me

Defensive posture 

Shoulders crossed

Shouting mercy


Flaming wings

Melting touch

Hidden sky


Headless wrath

Innocent eyes

Reality fading


Dreams shatter

Crying wounds

Shadow setting