Her voice was like the Angel's melody
That could heal the heart's malady.

How jealous were the seraphims
While concealing their darkness through their whims.

A peach that promised eternity
Was sent in her chamber with utmost secrecy.

Delighted for such a gift of immortality,
She ate the Seed that rooted her endless melancholy.

Unable to sing, she watched the dawning of the day
And cursed all the Angels with words she couldn't say...

She was fading with time,
blending without shine,
wardrobe worn to a pale red,
as rust was being fed,
her owner called her "Bess",
as she had served her purpose,
clearing trees and pulling stumps,
plowing fields and filling bumps,
forty years she worked these fields,
the cause of good yields,
and now her time had come,
no more parts, she could hardly run,
she could cough, spurt and fart,
she just didn't have the heart,
so as the year began to fade,
she blended into fall, away.

Who is God

‘‘I told you Sir
you are brilliance ‘’
let the whole world then follow...
only one God
Let, racialism not slice like swords...
In my opinion

‘’Time alone is God’’

and time only moves in one direction,
Unidirectional
only one Dimension

It moves forwards alone
but cannot be recycled
Time gone is gone...
only Time Sir is the Common God
and I am sure
you will assure
All...

Dry Ophelia

unformed, anonymous
urgently pinched
in waves of finned dispersion

a distant face streaming
slowly apart
the slumping waves of a forgotten pond
i drown inside as a lost cat

a thin river
dry Ophelia,
unsure where to fade

carrying bouquets neither real
nor artificial
symbiotic petals

christening a sleeping sea
with clear blushes even
you don't understand

dry as the brush you
were painted with
still not knowing

as your cheeks