Fractured Lights

Frayed Words

Their wails can be heard from the depths of the ocean of despair

They are walking carcasses, ghouls, spectres created by misfortune

Withered and lost, they tread amongst bones

For the drought is all they know and salvation is not their goal

They blunder in the darkness

Their embers have been quenched, they may not rise again


You know what you see, yet you claim to be blind

You say you are whole, yet you move as one fractured

It is undeniable that you have fallen

You walk on shards of broken dreams and eat the crumbs of shattered hopes

Tears are your master in this nightmare you call a daydream

Your strength is failing in the light of your weaknesses


We have fissures in our hearts, cuts in our spirits

Hope is not in us as our dreams dash at our feet

We hope to rise, we…

View original post 123 more words

The Lady in Red

Frayed Words

It comes and goes in waves

With pain and fire and blood

It stretches the mind and strengthens the body

It is the bane of the existence of so many

For some, it has the power to heal

For some, it has the power to kill

To some, it is madness

To some, it is purity

There are parts of her that scream once in a moon

They cry and pine

They wax in perplexity

They ache to crush their adversaries

They do not temper the flames that feed them

They do not exonerate the crimes of their children

They want the sweet figs and sweet wine

They want the doe eyes of sharp jawlines

Make them happy, make them pleased

They want the fast tempo of salsa and jazz

They wish for the touch of bass tones

They reach for the caress of strong hands

It comes and goes…

View original post 168 more words

What’s on my desk

I spend more and more time at my desk these days, doing everything from preparing for college lectures and exams to a steady writing schedule. It’s load, yeah, but I’ve decided to keep up my work with proper balancing of things. Starting with college books to poetry journals: the algorithm of my life.

My daily planner

My planner is one of those simple journals you can pick up from any stationery supplies store. White paper. With ruled lines holding my every word (to my throat) so I’m happily trapped in a world of my own – a world I created. It’s not much though, but it’s a fun ride; to a place I refer to as home.