Disdained and long-forgotten,
left in the intellectual mud.
Remnants of sanity or a sudden breeze?
A rotten hollow filled with ice.
...
Through the pen my soul pours,
an ink pleasure of infernal pain.
My companion's but a gentle sigh;
moulding shapes made of foam.
...
A pink ribbon decorates her hair,
She teases and smiles my heart swears;
An ice cream on a sunny day,
With hand in hand we take a stroll.
...
Into the abyss I fall,
a dark mask covering my eyes.
Silence startles my troubled mind,
aghast soul succumbing to oblivion.
...
A Mud
Disdained and long-forgotten,
left in the intellectual mud.
Remnants of sanity or a sudden breeze?
A rotten hollow filled with ice.
A sick jest of the cruelest of fates,
chained to the stone,
spirit crippled and mocked,
a glance at life to be lost.