A hurt soul, tortured mind and cold heart an angry spirit, raging flame of pain and thirst to kill a heart breaking, chaotic lover with burning passion a sane killer taking spirits, hearts and souls putting fear in all that wants love, that wants to live hurt, cold, darkness, pain and all are all a part of me I am nothing, nothing to you at all…..
Behind your face was cleaver releasing past poem. The sensual milk flows from the palm into your lake. Grieving for the torn wings of pink light. Cruising on thighs with eyes closed death utters a shriek. The eternal flame closes
Its a different kind of heartache Where tears dont flow, Its a different kind of pain Which people dont choose to show, Its the thing which people dont understand Untill they stand at our place. They keep judging us Without
When logic and intuition stood on edge of time, sugar was dancing on the salt lake. I would not see the torn book between retreat and assault. I was reining in the new moon. In a night raid, five peacocks