The natural beauty of the glorious migratory birds in the fictional plane of Cassedara remind you of the harmony that should have existed be

This was the judgement of all broken day dreams that now eventually made a way to nightmare screams. A tear that will echo within him, a tru

Survival isn’t a battle for them; it’s a game. They chase their target, the prey. They aim For the moon and shoot like the stars. Pity isn’t

I don't mean to capitalize on anyone's tragedy. This poem that I wrote long ago as an experimental narrative, doesn't even talk about...

t’s all amazing, deep in those valleys Where you create your own peaks, And the sun rises to your tips, Adjusting the stars to the lighting

Sinister charm. You do me no harm. Escapism is my disease. You are my drug, my relief. Seems like one bead lying in the line, Turns out to b

‘ It is my fault to be your daughter, I want to live with this sin. “Why didn’t you die inside that womb?” You ask me, raising my chin.

But when I come out; It’s really walking out of sleep, With no idea of what you dreamed. And yet you dreamt it, That’s for sure!

Take me home, this apocalypse is cruel. Take me ten seconds away, that misery was still surreal. This high pitched agony, the baritone of ev

Under the candlelight, It came to me As a ballad of glory; A flame that was afraid to be, The martyr’s beautiful story.

There are million words Fighting wars in the back of your mind. Shooting across like fireworks on a dark night.

I’m looking for something I wouldn’t ever find. Yet I’ll look for it in the whole world, but my mind.