Poetry was my first love and it brought me around to finally penning longer works such a novels. So, I'm jumping in!
How does my merry mirth give rise to a single thought, now divided into two—me and you. Tied as one, we’ve begun to shine, shrouds of covers layer us in colors. Warm to the touch, burning fire to behold. Pure gold.
The magician's hand has brought the alchemists touch, and transmuted all my fears into the promising years, seen now through a gazing crystal clear.
I’ve tasted something which leaps from you, in droplets and bubbles. Offerings from your imagination, deities who give forth that which marks a passage closer to them. Whatever capsule one could find, a grueling task to define.
Outside images, the mind illuminates through the test of time, solidify into concrete worlds of reality and form—not all you see but more. All that derives from the experience, all that pushes toward the future foundation you build upon, creates an immense fortress of solitude and happiness.
Creating through thought and creating despair. I see you with others and try not to compare. Maybe it was the words we said, or the hopes we shared. Which caused my head to believe you cared. Childish, I know, but my heart will pretend to go till the end.
If it’s silence we want why create tears? In hearts of millions thoroughfare of fears, collapsed under wishes received, no need of forgotten greed.
Cast away the mask one wears to cover, the face of hate not shared by another.