My dreamy world of writingis a graveyard shrouded in fog.Where each story has a grave,each grave has a character.These living, breathing corpseswith open eyes, raspy voicesand souls, gaze on through my eyes.

There is a keyhole to my heartthough there is no key holder.A keyhole to the wonders I dream of us,wonders that only exist within my mind.This door to my soul locked and windowless,you beg to enter even if only...

I possess an illness,an addiction to your drug.A sip of rose wineand conversation intoxicates me,and I am left cravingthe petals of your rose.Symptoms of lonelinessand the longing for you,I have no regretsfor my addiction to you.Your beauty is thus...

In search of a twin flame When the heart wants more Four chambers to hold and secure Not obvious to those Whose hearts are closed To the possibility That there could be more for you and me Yeah, some will consider it to be greedy I consider...