Sensual eyes
Turn towards...

My eyes do not vision
madness and destruction...

Crackles, shackles
of hardwood creepers...

Death has become a design of informal thoughts
notions of peace are dressed within tainted tears...

She spelled out "Help Me"
on a clouded, mist mirror...

It was an early spring,
under moonlit stars...

Breasted nightmares become a lofty
journey for a native who walks alone...

I left England back in the old age,
belonging to the same iris's, soul...

I whispered a vow to the sky
of breezes sprinkled in Jasmine...

The stillness of his calming
waterfall eyes, dew dropped...

French kiss
my thoughts within...

When I gaze upon a summery shade of sorrow
wilted dreams within my acoustic tears...