I am always as dark as my inkborn in a most distant ageas alluring as I am sageliving my life on death's brinkUsing this wicked smilejust to get what I wantable to tease then tauntwith a most lethal beguileFor...

It begins—not with a word—but a winnowing of silence.An inkling.This hush before quill bleedsonto the parchment.The ink drop dangles,glistens in my candlelight.A golden glimmer on a black drop. That is all it takes.As doubt ripples, certainty dissolves,while the poetry spills. I...

he was the first man to sayfuck this shit and mean ithe was literally tired of all the shitenough of the shit show this shit's gotta gohe no longer wanted to own his own shitbut not just hishe was fed up with putting up witheverybody...

Now it seems so easy to see,my path traced in a dusted destiny –all these truths which lie in store,far beyond each African shore. I sailed across a world so wideto allow my soul to no longer hide.Barefoot, I stepped...

I am but a sorceress of the night,wielding rhyme within my write,as I pen another transcending poem,while I let my wicked heart roam. With just a flick and a whispered word—no need for broom or black cat stirred—I transmute silence...