I Killed the King — New Poems
Ninety-nine billion people, and I am the breath that fills your lungs— unseen, yet stitched into the fabric of your existence. Crafted by gods, an angel, they say, yet my edges are frayed by psychopathic tendencies. Raw…
How’s the Melody of Doubt? — New Poems
I start humming at a stranger’s wishes, Doubtful of their conceptions, Of the melody they think they play. Is it like the maker wants a pot of misery— Stewing in the shadows of their own making? Is it stuck? How do you…
The Echoed Return — New Poems
I saw a change in the people, places, and things, Revisiting shadows where memory clings. Old footsteps retraced on forgotten ground, Where silence speaks, though none make a sound. I challenged myself to face what was gone,…
Better You vs. Lower You — New Poems
Just because they said no, Don’t cry wolf to empty skies. Life moves on, indifferent, A river that doesn’t stop for any of us. We are but fleeting memories, Dancing with our egos, Becoming purpose, Or choosing…
Power of My Witchcraft — Jaded
Power of my witchcraft crafted a new weapon. I am the king of my restless kingdom, yet captive to my own guilt. I fought for this throne, a bloody, shameless man, fueled by demonic rage, revealing the dark sorcery that lies within brotherhood. This is my…
If I Were — Jaded
If I were fragile like a flower, I’d have a lot of trouble finding my way. If I were fragile like a bomb, I’d have no trouble finding my way. Carry yourself with the best intentions. Don’t always sulk— simmer. Brush it off? It’s like saying, “He’s the…
I. — Jaded
I laughed when I entered the room, thinking I played the elephant, the one no one dares to name. “An anti-hero with a superpower: turning everyday moments into scripts— the dullest of scenes, a story of—”
No, Why? — Jaded
As I aspire to become a phenomenon, I stand tall amid a world of doubt. I ponder the words of those who cast stones, their judgments wrapped in veils of ignorance, thrown my way like discarded trash. Yet I, in my quiet defiance, rise. I laugh,…
Stanza — Jaded
“…They called it strength when I learned not to cry. But strength was the mask— survival was the monster underneath. I sharpened my silence into knives, built walls out of broken promises, and crowned my pain so it would kneel to me. What once controlled…
The Art of Relaxation — Phoenix Heart
I’m not sure what this chapter will be called, but let’s take away the suspense and think of it like this: He cried wolf to everyone and everything. Clear as day, they tiptoed away, trying to confront the evil in a self-sabotaging manner. You know, when…