An onerous soul dwells within, When autumn is pass and winter sets in, Introspecting I count my sins. Years seem a colossal mistake I lie, a lifeless body, a soul awake. But I have lived in inferno and it is too late. “Ah! Wither Faustus, Your soul can never be saved.”

The colours of life Unknown. Vintage, spring, a plethora grown. Hues and shades Brightness galore, The colours of life Yet unknown. Subtle dark A sunset glow, Ceaselessly, moments flow. Bliss and Erebus in a row, The colours of life Forever unknown.

We haven’t seen each other for months. And years too will quickly pass by. I haven’t met you… Ever since you died.

I am a dead poet and I am scared. Down below there, I see a panel of some learned friends and foes. In their minds they hold a few tools some called ‘literary device’. My verses on the table lie, They cut and pierce and wound and then lay my words to rest. Rip me … Continue reading A Dead Poet’s Woes →

From the corner of my eye I looked. Trailing right behind me as I followed fate was my past. Wrapped in dirty linen and appalled mendacity.   A crooked hand or two had embellished my days with a ludicrous (un) truth.   I became the serenity of the ocean surface, the trepidations beneath unseen and … Continue reading I Still Love My Haunting Past →