A poem — My tears are the heaviest as colours are peeled from the surface of my skies. The sun is bundled up and sent on a long pilgrimage and the moon is reluctant to be silvery and mild. Where is the origin of those thumping sounds? Are those the footsteps of misery…

A poem — My voice is loud with the publicity of a herald and I’ll mention all the excruciating sorrows the earth won’t heal and those bruises the planet is pleasured to inflict. The interval between dawn and dusk is rich with a multiplicity of miseries punishing men through the cycles of their existence…

A poem — I know the colossal weight of burial dust that submerged me underneath, manifesting all the hideous intentions of death and those cruel motives for perpetual rot. My eyes saw the lights, all the poking lights glistening from the farthest ends of eternity and the lostness of infinitude. …

A poem — There’s no joy to greet the scarcity in the poor and neither do the excellencies of Heaven send a delegation of comfort and luxury. Ample tears stream down my eyes but its source is held of no regard. I had battles I fought not to fight with wars that broadcasted the…

A poem — Let the stars descend clustering for my funeral for I’m the death of ambition with the elusiveness of treasured dreams. I was a spectacle the world never loved and the object villainous hands assaulted with crass brutality. I paid my soul to mourn silently lest the ears of circumstances hear…

A poem — The circumstances of pleasure are the most memorable spread on the vastness of the surface of time. There are highs far beyond the comprehension of reality and they sell men poignant tingles felt only in fantasies and fairytales. The invitation that called me was vested with privilege exporting me to…

A poem — The world met me crumbled long before I discovered I was in pieces. You know you’re a stark laughingstock when you’re an object of amusement for seemingly no apparent reasons. I sank into cushions of existence from the yonder of ambiguous worlds and realms only hatched from conceptions of thought. My arrival wrapped me…

A poem — The feet tackling me are seasoned with expertise and I’m forced to drown in circumstances where I can swim. I’m an exhibit of misery sent where the damned are agonized to die hard. All my days are weaved in the pattern of regrets and I’m buried underneath dust that retains men…

A poem — Cursed is the earth and its foundations that predates the inception of humans. Cursed are all things that wage war against the intervention of light, concord and rest. It’s a world that soaks the pleasure of evil without contentment or exhaustion. Humans are sucked into an appetite for damage and…