Peering into the desolate image
tainted with depression's art...

Thou shall not fall on bended knee
to honor a god of imagination...

"Lonely within my infinite tears
of numerous, scattered shards...

Night approaches softly
whispers swirl my ear...

At the fresh arrival of life, anew
we are handed our own canvas of heart...

--free verse. its not my best, it came to me...
Along the ebony wall...

You paint yourself in black and white
to conceal the rainbow within your heart...

The obsession for a body full of grace
matches the reconstructions for the flawless face...

Conscructed souls by the hands of God
through our parent's sexual reproduction...

Claims of tangible love...
connecting two forlorn spirits...

I write not for aspirations,
nor for society salutation...

Beneath His scaly crimson wings,
He unleashes His prison of malice...