I've grown seasoned
to the fact that...

I’ve consulted the demons of my past desires
During a night of bloodstained tears...

I feel it in my bones
as life trickles like...

I am nothing without
whispers from the eastern...

I've slumbered in New York,
nestled within a hammock...

Summers drenched
upon sweaty fingers...

I haven't written
about the red van...

Ivy gazing, as starlight guides
encircling beauty of webbed design...

How do I say goodbye to the eyes of beauty?
To touch a person's life...

Feathery elegance intertwines
as her song lays silent, unheard...

diamond's promenade
from a tearful waterfall...

Upon the hills of rocks and stone
beyond moor of meadow dawn...