Parting Together (Last Little Song)

To have felt

so much, even

without meaning


We wouldn’t

kill ourselves.


Feeling passes everyday

Passion remains the same

Feeling fleeting

Devoid of meaning

Passion remains.


1. It Only Lends Itself To Dream

To Luna: Neither Love nor Infatuation


Is it the

suffering that

makes this love

exist at these

weeping worth



This fodder

for one who


Waking washing

away such a vivid



This is not for

those still living


rippling blood

into a half-full



Weak and powerless

The depth makes

tear-less eyes bleed

Even in wanting

death, life becomes



As it levels

out a waking

heart left half-empty


As if this could

only exist in dreams,

There’s even less

now left in the land

for the living


Whether or not

Deathe shrouds

sleepers in immortal



As if sleeping

now gives glimpses

in such lucidity

and well they could

not repeat themselves


How apt that I

only desire to e’er

sleep with You.


For these love-filled

dreams, make the waking

suffer and all no longer worth


Now even more illusory

than dream.

From & For

Vaguely running through the summer’s

night puddles

The empty feeling fills itself

because there can’t be nothing.


Each candy coated, lungs filled

with smoke I’m choking


Grinning from your soul,

may I lay beside you,

whispering into your ear


Who would beg for that

wretched nothing, wretched nothing


Losing, losing days

these hours are seconds

to that smile

can we be infinite



Therefore, here can not e something

The full thought empties myself

Let the winter’s shine

soak up that vividness


A call to arms,

All things fall apart,

As I shall sleep and

count these grains no longer


Subsides the loneliness,

yet it’s for no one else

Searching for something

Who shall , am I

going to fill this all



Let’s fall upon, upon

and arise to the flawless

mess of this abode


For there’s no one to

disappoint and nothing

to expect


From you

For me

From me

For you


There’s little else to fill this void

filled shaft

Let the gates of dream

Open as I shut my lids

Into oblivion

Blow my mind, and bash my brain


Faint Shadow

Lay  with me as the water

begins to fall


Viscous as it hits our skin,

the taste shall e’er linger

upon our lips


What shall we speak of then

when these our altars are in



When our words are spoken

by others, who never understand

the cadence of our hymns


The sacred becomes ritualistic,

a faint shadow of our

faithful whim


The realisation embeds us in

the mire we made


A long time ago, what we

was ne’er ours to keep


Lifetimes that come with

no receipts, our dreams on a

loop until they are fulfilled


Shall we dance with those

suns our brothers

Shall we dance with the

moonlit planets


Here and then no longer.

All we ever did was chase

our butterflies

As those with,

devour us.


For Your life’s meaning is a


One You can’t catch without


Upon this daily basis, still ponder why

we’ll wonder out this door.


For Your life’s meaning is

but a butterfly. there’s

no catch without loss. Maybe

laying still I shall no longer

chase my own butterfly.


Fall asleep as clouds and sky

pass-over me.

Awaking, I stir the butterfly

upon me.


I say, say hold

this hand of mine

as we let go of

the lands before our eyes.


Close our lids

so slowly

I’m, I’m, um-um

We’re floating down


We’re floating down

Sinking into oblivion

There’s no art to the performance,

no performance to this art.

Only the audience.


As Below For Above

Dance with your suns my


Dance with  the  moonlight



lay with me before my altar,

I’ll lay with thee before thine



No ulterior motives, celestial

dally in lunacy.

The solar ambiance shall

bathe us in love and light


Bend us over for the night,

as today’s memories are

lost in slumber.


Stand with us and bow as

below for above.

Sleepless Cemeteries

He looked up at the sky,

the stars were dead, the grass

grew over his shoulders

and tickling the sides of his  neck.


The silence seeped into his

head, we change so often that

when things become ordinary.

Some strangers passing in the

damask dusk of an ever-ending



Something nameless, faceless and

no way meaningless, Sisphus’

sermon on the mount over

those deities grave-yards.


Now noting these emotionless

thoughts, invoked by the sleepless



Upon him his weightlessness

lays heavy, grounding him to

the depths of his chest.


How he now yearns for tears

of the day and the taste of

morning dew between her legs.


He stands on the hill out back

where she conceived in him

all this scenery.


He remains without remorse

nor regrets, he buried her beating

heart in his stomach and chest

with some sauce and pasta.

It was pork so it was fine.


He made his bed by her

headstone, and he slept without

rest. Suddenly time passed

as the vines through his skin.


He kissed each bird and each bee

as they pollinated pink poppies

on his cheeks.


Ravens nested in his rib-cage

within a week. Still he watched

the sky after they fed on

his eyes.


His brain and mind had

become a hive, he was

absent for it all, and

presently his body has never

been more alive. Lucid his

passion laid restless in that bed,

as beside he remained, by her

headstone he stays.


He is one of us, the children

of a broken home fathered by

Logos and Mothered by Eros.

We were born jaded with passion

embedded within our heart. To

tell this story more honestly

our father passed away at the

age of three and our Mother

raised us alone.

So we hold on to the thought

that our passion will remain

whether brain dead or insane.


Only with time we understand

that our father dies of alcoholism,

because he could never reciprocate,

when when our brief step-father

was writing he didn’t exist.

We’re still playing the

game, of colouring between the seams.


Filling in the spaces between the pain,

like we did on our Mother’s wrists ,arms ,

and legs.

When we were just children, when

we were just children, smaller

than this.


Inward Darkness

Falling into my gaze, She

bathes in the mud of my iris.

The glass beneath the bath

shatters. As She sinks into my soul.


Now She roams lost there

alone, after a pill for

this panic I sit down

this mind in silence blooms

as an exotic flower.


Going inward guided by the

light of the shattered window

above, there’s a child I meet

there. Without greeting I question

why there’s so little in here

and whither She went?


Smiling, running off

I follow to the radiance

in the distance, not hearing

the child shouting the light

blinds and engulfs me.


Soon it’ll be the night of this

soul, and I still haven’t found

Her, lost and all alone, lost and all



Who speaks to me, I look up

it’s a lady but not Her,

but she knows where She

is, and knows who I am

but who is she, leading me

bu her presence.


This feeling is familiar yet

foreign, she’s a goddess

guiding though this darkness.


I tell her I can’t rest, running

off once again her kiss

still cooling on my forehead.

Smiling I trip, some figure

a cloak who says I should

heed one lesson said a thousand

times in a whispering second.

I thank the shadow, filled with

fear and trembling my eyes

close shut, where she plant

her kiss sears my forehead.


Smoke fills my lungs,

I asphyxiate, as I run,

without sight, nor hearing,

deaf, mute, blind I still run,

plainly I’m dumb.


I can feel everything, I still run.

I can’t feel anything, I still run.

Lost and all alone, alone

and all lost.


Death permeates, echoing, branching

out and expanding. I still run.

I don’t understand why anymore,

all I can’t remember is

whether there’s something I’ve

forgotten. I still run.


All lost and all alone

I can’t feel if I’m running anymore,

All I feel is this warmth is

it or isn’t it my own? The night

has fallen, the day has broken

and this lotus blooms no more.