As I write

  The intoxication within is valiant enough to infuse my pen with the darkest of the tales to tell, My heart is surreptitious at times, hiding even the lamest of smiles, as I write, the emotions open up like the blooming of bluebells, now I know what all troubled me The white sheet was dark… Continue reading As I write

Burning Lamps

    Tonight, I have smoked my favourite cigarettes with curtains drifted apart, I sit here with a glass of my taste And as this lamp burn, I burn like the melting wax And I begin to bleed, I bleed on my paper with hot wax on my cold skin Tonight, the moon is drunk… Continue reading Burning Lamps