Tuesday, 31 March 2009

t.M II


I implore you to inform me of why it is, that every time you come within my eye sight I am instantly thrown into a mindless daze, a sense of ethereal surrealism.
Your beauty will be my death, if you continue to perform as you do.
And I know not of a human that could deny the allure of your disappearing act.
You will be the most intensely desired creation that I will ever have had the fortune of knowing.
And I would go as far as to say, my dear, that I love you.
Though I wish only to be able to express such feelings in any way other than words.
Perhaps, in time, such will happen.

Monday, 16 March 2009



But what is love or lust, if that which is loved or acquired through lust, is merely a single sided battle to accomplish acceptance and to find solid evidence that equality is anything but just a word muttered within the dreams of failing romantics.

Monday, 2 March 2009



And with what courage does it take thee to express all manner of feelings portrayed through words so sweet as those thou have spoken.

For I long for clarity within these walls, within the boundaries thou has marked out through the incapability of providing evidence for the facts so consistently spoken.

With which, I sit upon my throne, pondering the notion that a liar is not just a keeper of truths but also a seeker of such, in disguise.



Day by day, I watch the coming and going of life in every form.
I am predetermined to observe the sights of everything that passes me by.
And with such influence, I relate, my current affairs to that which I see.
I see liars and cheats, facades and faux charisma.
Wishes unfulfilled, thus forgotten through ignorance.
Naivety glamorised as an acceptable frame of mind.
And the unwillingness to explore further than a zone that realistically, could not ever be referred to as comforting.
Then I see you, one among the millions, one who through so many, shines with a light so vivid it turns all other surroundings to the pits of darkness.
Such an attractive light, but so unclear it is as to why.
As appearances are so evidently deceiving, so might I say, is the human mind.
And I have spent so many hours on end, attempting to devise an explanation that regards why the image of you is more consistent in my mind than perhaps even the primitive instincts to sleep and eat.
I have thus far achieved not a single answer. And by the rules of both optimism and pessimism, I feel such might be the case for eternity.