some day you awake,

to a silent god

and you take a bath,

long and deep,

in a pool of flames

you feel your demons within,


tearing through your boiling skin,

and the heavens,

can only seem so far away,

from the eye of the undying

the torment,

the dust on a forgotten painting,

to shade my heart black

and a silent god would awake,

to a cloud of my ashes

the essence of another soul


My demons

A flickering candle on an empty highway

light my way into a sunrise

for the dead walk in the shadows,

and the ghosts fly in the moonlight

but my demons,

I walk with,

on the inside


Passing souls

The dimming lights, 

A flickering candle on an empty highway

Darts a wagon

Killing it’s flame, 


The smoke of the passing souls 

A flower ceases to be

A walk in the park
A silent wind rubbing,
against weary leaves
A dry throat in a bright sun

The touch of fairness
Feel the pores breath
The eye that catches a flower
Inhale her fragrance

Way deep,
Into the lungs,
the mind
And the soul

If only moments stretched a lifetime,
even more,
The petal that withers,
in my hands

It’s dust in the wind
A shattered heart
When it hurts to love,
cause the day is gone

Just a day
Only when I thought I didn’t care,
and you did it
You left memories in my head

The little arguments
The smiles within the tears,
I hate that I didn’t hold you enough
Long enough

The flower from the park
Ceasing to be
But forever in our hearts,
A friend and a family


Even gods laugh

I awake to a clear blue sky, 
every morning 
The tropical forest

A green canopy  of small hills, 
with patches of rusty iron sheets, 
The local natives

When the ancient man left the caves, 
the hunt with the hounds, 
the stones and the hides,

to the jets in the skies, 
the heavy smoke in the streets
burning fossils and minerals, 
he should have loved the music

dance your way to the moon

The groove of the moving earth, 
the roar of a hurricane, 
and the bubbling of molten rock

the perceptions of faith

“This is a punishment from the gods”
“disown my blood for deviations”
“infidelity or atheism?”

The world loves a good story
Mr. President loves a good camera, 
a red tie and shiny motorcade

My mom enjoys a silent morning, 
no sirens, 
or chemo

I guess she must pay tribute
To the ancient man or the gods?

That the present paves the future, 
to the moon or the grave?

I love the sound of my key tabs
Tap the glass screen, 
scroll the immoral

The truths and the facts

His Excellencyis black,
that’s a fact

He is an international hero, 
thats a truth

The truth? 
That African leaders dream our countries away?

African leaders dream the world away!

The fact? 
World leaders are dreaming the world away

So I awake to a crimson sky
It is World War IV
Man and his nukes

The ancient man speaks to the gods, 
“I did my job right.”
“I defeated my greatest invention.”

And the gods reply, 
“you sure did take your time!”
“One hell of a mistake creating you! “

When doves cry

The sores of a dry lip

Kiss the rose and let it die

My lover is asleep

I am her tears

The ashes to the winds

Send me into the unknown

My frozen breath in a winter storm


The joy and pain
A life of a thousand years

When the ink below my eyes smudges,
The tears of blood I shed
If my truest is my pain,
This bed of thorns I must lay

The venom is my blood
A dead heart and it’s veins
The spiders weave my robe
The scorpions fill my glass

When the darkness unfolds like a blanket,
Over the sky,
The dark angel I arise,
Creatures of the night we reign

The caskets and the mansions
The sons of the devil
Shall I see sun?
My tales to the flames

Even a RAT dines

Whites castles and silver plates
Melts scented candles 
The light from bronze chandeliers

If these walls can shrink,
The heavy air within
Fills my lungs with lays of dust particles

The old wine tastes dull 
Must be these faces around the table 
Filthy and expensive

The rugs that blur their nudity
But not their souls

Void and dark

Their selfish hearts and smirks
Decays meat in their teeth 
From a last kill you fouled hyenas

The blood,
And no decency

Smiley hogs
Their grunts known to the sun 
The wind must have come with aplague

The winter streets
Frozen and dead
Cries a Raven on a broken cart

Even a rat dines, 
On marrow of a dead king
Should the sky turn grey

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