A descent through perception society and reality where meaning collapses into trials and consumed truth.

Waking to God’s blue light Shining through the early morning Wandering about, ready for the fight, Winding up and down, still storming. Out the door, another round. Knowing he might crown himself or wake

Hay noches en las que ni siquiera el deseo de caer encuentra luz suficiente para existir. No te imaginas lo que me hubiera gustado sentirme como el maldito Ícaro… quería que me quemaras en tantos sentidos,

Silence, why so much hesitation? Silence, maybe I was too late. Silence, was something lost in translation? Silence, I love, but maybe she hate. Waiting, what am I supposed to do? Waiting, I die a little

No more hiding, I'm peeling back the mask. Going to show'em all, who I think I am? A man who thinks, who writes, who feels more. His pain, his sorrow, his hidden vulnerability. It's all too intense too

Takes painful emotions to feed my inspiration. Love is the most powerful one. The same could be said for a little infatuation. Sets my imagination from a walk to a run. This love is like a tree, starts

Something has got to happen. Things have to change. I need a transformation. Please make me strange. I want to be unrecognizable. To the world a fresh start. To mine own self, unknown. Something deep within

I want to feel death's breath on my neck. I want to peer into the exquisite emptiness. Just laying there with a vacant stare. On the ground, not a sound, except maggots biting down. Feeding their existence,

Back to the surface, yeah I'm bubbling up. Did you miss me? Even longed for the day? I'm that scab that never heals, even in a bath full of eels. I'm that electric bill you haven't paid. [NOTICE: PAYMENT

Ominous Poetry: Abysmal - Pale horse #poetry #hive #writing #creativity #darkpoetry

Pinterest Dusk gets here and the night folds the day into nothingness and before the crickets share their opinions, the devil has already claimed a dormant piece of my agonising soul and reinstated dark

The night seeps through the cracks of my mother's hut and the tin lamp light dances with the cold breeze as my fear peers into the blackened yard to find the monsters stuck harmoniously in my head. Crickets

Find me back in the dark Inviting smoke into my lungs As unexpected long nights Lay in wait Crazy will be running my mind Helping the voices Echo in the corridors of my headspace Looking for the where

She stood before them Naked and looking vulnerable Her face begged them to be kind For their mouths to find A way to speak humanity Back to her emptied version Yet there was not a single person Who tried

The ink has run dry there is nothing in these pens other than this enticing pain calling out your name and with humility, you readily avail yourself. You see pain has its way with men it digs a path that

Standing at the edge of my world Wondering what I found Stretches of nothingness Fall before my eyes Like deserts . My mind rewinds itself Back to the forgotten beginnings Only to find emptiness Staring

Sometimes it's quiet on this end Loud silence inhabits The dark streets of this mind Nothing can be heard or sensed Where ink wells bled. Sometimes the inner chaos Get too anarchic For the filters of this

I am living But still This grieving zombie Whom darkness won't let Attempt to bask In any form of light Just incase I betray the shadows. I am breathing Even though my breathing in Only helps me exist

New year New you? 2020 hindsight going on through End of tradition Broken translation Gonna twist every loose screw Who am I? I am who? I’m whatever the fuck I am going through Got lost on the way In no

All I want for Christmas is a life anew Break me of these chains of antisocial activity Bring me festivity, love, joy and life with you I just want a ear to hear me A voice to reach all of you Piece this