Wandering in the somnolent keep                                                                                                             We brush each eternal essence of our deep                                                                                             Depths too well known for those who walk



Eye lids falling far; yet close.
No matterring whether there is a meaning or end
Quieting minds as each thought descends
Only when we’re broke we will make amends

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.

2. It Only Lends Itself To Dream

To Ceph’: Neither Infatuation Nor Love


There’s no envy

nor even jealousy,

one can only muster

a reactive smile

in blindness of any

other love


of any other

touch, as if

synaesthesia was

the senses correct order


Now even the

face and voices

fade, memory made

hollow an suffering

all the more meaningless


Numbness shallow

in its deepness

Gives way

to further numbness


Not even the warmth

of the womb

Could bring such



With passion’s

shadow beginning

to stray

All senses ending

as they fade



even numb

could not explain

All feeling made

all the more vague


Even numb

can not explain

All feeling made

all the less lucid

Nothing made

all the more


– Luna –

In as much sincerity

Nightly cloaked, with’ void nor star

Wakening in speechful gaze, bespeaks the day


Shall her ex-stasis bleed Her ravened

wings, beating upon that cellar door

Or shall they be soaked upon

that ocean’s floors


Beneath the kamorebi,

rare the immolated shadow bare.


Amiss in plentiful presence,

and a yearning simmer

in conflagrations absence.



Amidst thine amber clouds,

each pursuit of bliss filled chills,

sharing each flirt among

the mists of smoke.


In as much sincerity,

Memento mori.

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.