What happened in the woods

I drank from the cupof the flowing stream of verseand was thus poisonedwith the charms of what can bein one's imagination

Song of the Priestess (2)

Born, the scribe In this world entranced by idol worshipI have found the living God He demands no sacrifice, no hymnsonly my soul in ink-drops His potent blessings to me are plenty so sweet, they curl my toes coursing through each vein in ecstasythat only in His verses find succour For it is only in…

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Posthumous

Perhaps all my wordswill be cherished when I'm goneaging like fine wine…Appreciation in death'sthe tragedy of poets

A day in the life of..

I walked down the street a merry song on my lips;a million li'l things did cross my path and my mind saying 'You do not matter'I tried not to seenot to let them get to me continued singing;but my singing got softer ...slowly fading and dyingHow do I convince the heart that has always been…

Legacy

Someday they'll turn to dust forgotten as though never written with the brief passion that is life itself'all sound and fury, signifying nothing'Pages consumed by the earthas the body will be, come slumberWill it then signify something, Will it then even matter?Will you then remember what I wrote?Letting the record of my soul play in…