The Mortals of the Immortals

what if
the gods were never about the gods themselves
what if
it was all about ideas in a metaphorical parallel

but then
that's the thing about ideas
ideas are bulletproof
you can't kill them
but then
call your ideas a name
a name of flesh and bones
and
it suddenly becomes religion



ideas are monstrous

live one and you are wreaking havoc on a good morning 

Good Afternoon

have you seen the skies lately?

metal lives wrapped in the masquerade of hues
as if a spilled palette on the blank canvas taking shapes of your favourite fairytales
solitary rainbow in the far south
and a hundred thousand dreams dipped blonde in the glory of the afternoon bask



the storm has passed

distances drenched at the lengths of a petrichor 

Devil's Own

crackling through the heart of the skull of the skies split open in two
devil looks down half blind; solitary eye rusted red in the blood moon
peals of cynical smirks thundering mortal lives; blinding myopic humans en route


not a tear to shed; not an elegy to pen
not a desire unloved; not a death undone



devil wears nothing

but the skin 

The Omen by the Fall

it was an afternoon
scathed and ominous


the skies had fallen apart
ripped at the very heart
torn by a war as if

within

The Kings of No Kingdom

once upon a time
a long time ago
there was a kingdom
no king though

there are kings today
but nothing of a kingdom
not any more



once upon a time lies forgotten in time

The Fable Called Dusk

the wait for the goddesses has aged
a bit brittle
a lot feeble

until it's all another fable

Speaking of You

you are an oxymoron
you'd keep obliging

the essence of being is an irony

Another Unusual Tale

time, my love
is
a terrible denomination

they often speak of tales
how time helps grow acquaintances
but then
let's not get acquainted, my love


for
strangers have intentions
acquaintances, agendas

Rains and Roses

half a dewdrop, half a pearl
half a bloodlust, half a tear


rains and roses

and an unfinished love letter