Something’s wrong

I’ve been pitifully hurting

Ive been mercilessly thirsty

Feeling suddenly alone-

what I see-

is this what they’ve all been shown

is this how they’ve been grown

to live in the sin of beatless hearts

is this how they grow

is this all they know

or do they see something under

the moonless glow

Why do i see

something else that I feel

a language that seems

no translation can make clear

even if all the seas were made into ink

and sea salt dried into sculptures and formations

displaying the story of my emotions

it will still not be clear

because there are two arguments here

from two different places

one of many faces

and mine of a single motivation

just one

and thus

I am alone

and they are many

with many faces

and many reasons


King of Fools gold

A king with all of the wealth in the world

All of the power and might

But with empty seats at his meeting table

No servants grooming  his silk horses at the stables

All chefs have left the kitchens and butchery 

Imperial carpets are void of eyes in awe

Jewels lay incased with keys in their locks

No threat of skinny pickpocket in fingers 

Nor mastermind thieves loitering by the tall pillars

The king pleads.. Oh assassin, just pick me!

And his voice echoes back, in the same high note of desperation, growing ever faint into the wallowing air. 

He has the prestige and gems, but an empty heir. 

The assassin is not  interested in the arrogant ruler of fools gold.

There’s a story behind those eyes.

There’s a story behind those eyes.

The sun sets differently,

and the moon shines in the other

Secret gardens blooming in each alcove

with underground troves of words and memories

too deep to rediscover.

Be generous, oh eyes,

cry and cleanse the treasure beneath them

the treachery witnessed has flooded your ponds

wrecking havoc and drowning your gardens.

Weep away the dirt you forgot to sweep away

before they fossilize and erode the wisdom

you’ve been polishing over the

silent, exhausting, and broken years.

Beneath those eyes there lies a hero

fighting the mirage of a ghostly, ghastly, phantom devil

always watching and peering through

at all the scenes you see and do

collecting all the reasons for you to falter

digging ditches and setting traps for you to fall for

These are your nightmares, mirages that don’t exist

But the hero within, is real and persists

waging a war, a single warrior waving a flag

and waiting for your order

as You are the commander

and the phantom awaits your surrender

But the hero- the warrior, remains ever standing

for the call to finish your battle

every night.

ready to gift you

your due victory

and rewrite the pages

of your story.



Palms soft, unwithered from hard work

Paper and pen are witness to your strain

Don’t you worry, your effort’s not in vain. 
Stubborn with concern, yet you stand strong unconsumed.  Your conscience is overpowering, yet you remain unconcieted. 

Don’t you worry, success is self control and constancy 

Not to live this life and advance it in joy

Victory and glory is an old ploy, used to fool those cowering into tools of greed
Don’t you worry, your hopes will soon be real

Just don’t forget how to forgive and feel