My shadow. My lighthouse. My saviour.

For I stare upon this vagrant shadow,
all but forlorn.
And hear blunders of my past,
being conceived.
And in the wake of mishaps,
the loss of a cognitive being was evident.
And beneath the grey skies,
an ember light burnt.
And that was to be my beacon,
my lighthouse.
My saviour.


Her inked blot heart

Her heart quivered,
as she penned her thoughts.
For her body shackled
And her mind soaring free.
Her heart restless,
her soul weary.
Her inked blot heart
yearning for her muse.


Sky of love

She sought the skies in earnest hope
Not because she needed divine direction
Not because of shamans directions
But because
It was there
She sought
And found
The stars
That lead
Her heart
To love


Star gazed sky

For the evening encroached the dusk and the star gazed sky ladened with aspirations of future past lay against the symphony of interludes, beckoned by the yearning that consumed my existence.