Lake of memories

There was a time when you came to my banks with smile and excitement. Reward of a a lonely day.
Beautiful scenery and feeling of simple yed deep connection. Your body would submerge into me, your lake, and together we would swim on waves of laughter, passion and words.
I have them still with me, still reading them out loud many times. Words you erased long time ago...
And I can't forget

In the rain of light and darkness

Air has flown into my lungs
Upon leaving my body
                      Second
                          Minute
                                 Forever
It left me in the shower of light

My back - Burning
My face - drowning
                      Tear
                          Stream
                                Ocean
Returning to myself is not an option

I mean no harm... While destroying the world of two in a fire of pain
I mean no harm... The air in my lungs feeds the flame

Why do you let me burn thinking I set myself to become ashes, in your mind...

I could not breathe the air,
nor could I make a sound.

Till today I still believe in Dragon den
One clumsy dragon
Burned to the ground

Cracked

Mischievous hint
sparks and then fire.
Stone, before wet,
cracks of desire
Flames licking rock
then water came
smooth as your tongue
feel of no shame


Have I told you that today I have never felt more lonely in my entire life?
My stone cracked and it is bleeding out... So pretty

Door to Wonderland

Rusty nob of palisander door, pushed by a shaky hand. 

What will Alice find this morning in the wonderland? 

Perhaps a quote from a mistreated professor will turn her small

Or cake with a hidden dagger blade ripped her flesh, grow tall

Nurse doll dressed by doctors, with smiley grinning fangs

Maybe a dark black bubble where air burns small girly lungs

The Queen of Hearts scares you not... 

Emptiness does, the vast nothing that sits on your neck, blocking your breath, 

heck! Alice! Handle the shock with some grace

Not bareback in a cornfield counting raindrops on your face! 

One, two, three, four count to ten to million if you must

Grind pills to dust, swallow, and comply

Dreams so high then turned to needles slowly fading with your memories, inked under your skin

They win, they always fucking win. 

Riped blue dress on a girl named Alice, soaked in the lake of a lonely voice

Speaking of ending marching dead rabbits. 

Shoot? It's your choice

Every day starts the same, nob that turns the side

I am done being blue dress Alice, I want to run and hide...

Recepie for disaster

Cup of Words and distance
Litter of pain
Mixed to the game of hide and seek
Pinch of insecurities
Add hands that paint air art

Soak the sheets by salinated drops
Wipe it with tissue paper
Overload your brain with desperation
And let it set for hours till ready
When darkness forms, she'll consume it all... 

Flute master

Tune of flute and marching shadow, 
City waiting for its cleanse. 
Infestation of poor judgement
lowering stone wall defence. 
Song master ask nothing more
maybe coin? Or sheetless bed...
Everything must be at sleep, 
when he's working, as he said.

All is down, oh all, but not
little soul in pink short gown
looking for her midnight milk, 
now is marching down the town
Pinky toes stamp bloody road
Thousands feets in black parade, 
marching behind tune of flute
forming deadly moonlight shade. 

In the march of creepy crawlers 
flute master is but a sling,
tool of magic, trance and work
Binding requests like a string. 

Shore is close, oh close your eyes!! 

Ribon binding black hair back
feet are moving towards sea... 
Rats and roaches drowning life 
in cold waves, and so is thy

Morning bringing streets fest free
Empty glass stands next to bed
but there is no one there to sleep
She lies under waters breath 
People gathered to moarn loss
anger, fire rising in. 
Shimmering swords, scythes and knives
To punish traitor to erase sin. 

Masses cringing, twisted limbs 
How do we survive this terror
Whole city is on the shore 
Regretting this fatal error

Flutemans song is in the air
No one voice screams in despair

Tool of faith, the one who kill
Leading parade down the hill

One two, one two, left and right 
Desolation, deadly sight

When you choose to threat him fair
Flute master will give you air

When you choose to betray master
You will wish to die now faster

Listen, there for what he said
And stay at night in your bed

Invite

Painter brings life to sun ray's, 
morning dews. 
Sirens sings
to lost pirates with eye patch and 
smell of brew. 
Poet leaks his letter
river of papers swallow it all. 

Wonderland of own creation, 
simple yet unknown 
clapping hands with sharp nails
Twisted limbs of my past
wrapped around the neck. 

Gardens of hope and lust 
body turning to dust. 
Noises of lovely duty
screamin pictures of beauty
opening door to shard of eyes. 
Selfish invite? Sacrifice? 

There is no one so close to the fire (only you). 
Blue and green flames stripped of desire
Purple shirt on the floor silently fades
with arms spread wide, opening gates

Come in 

First settlers

Twas a breath we took there for first time

Twas a element we didn't know

Vile but subjected to obsevation

Two souls 

Not alone but far away from home

Excitement of new horizons, 

new sky and stars at night 

New soil between my fingers 

Intertwined with yours

You said nothing,  just smiled 

Two suns shine, they are  smaller like new born stars are... 

Are we??

Just reborn into world of possibilities struggle and pain

With happiness, its insane 

Many of you said

But it's the breath we take for second time 

It's the rock we call home now.

In my dreams we would fly there together. Oh such a vision such a journey. 

Collision of realms

Dangling in the space
There is a little breach of continuum
I see you on the other side
Shocked and suprised
My realm is not yours
Yet I listen to the sound
So so familiar... far, far away
I feel your laugh
I hear your eyes shine
Creature I never touched

The rift is smal for me to enter
Too narrow to slide through
I am human
Stuck at the wrong side of this
Fingers try to push the light
To have a chance
But this universe is a joker
Cruel and sadistic

Because every time I conect
I am reminded of what I won't have
Its you, amazing creature
And your pixels and voice

How is it that two energies
Who found each other
Have a universe separating them
Realms of oposit sites
Just peak through the crack
Every day see you more
Run with me a little further
Because if I can't come to you
Let's have this broken wall of shards
To cary us further

HOW can I exist as half
When full is required.
This won't make sense
And yet it's how I feel...
You are the  most beautiful creature
I have ever seen
Yet I've never touched your face

The healer

Day after day I write my life story

In eyes of druids, on river benches. 

Filling up tree leaves with scribbles and worries
Walking with back full of stuck clenches

Touches
Forbiden sound
Silent wish
Night

Tears, as my pen, jumping on paper
Tree shavings secretly form friendly face
To tell me who I am, to fit me in shaper
To let me know to fight in grace

Alone
Heals
Taking chances
Breath

Who am I, the one of green-eyed elves?
Spawning my chants to precize portions
Forgetting reason of forgotten empty shelves
Places, where I used to store my potions

Conflict
Burst
Running heart
Hand

What is the reason of me being here
This war has damaged my body to dust
Soldiers of Arthas trembling with fear
Hands of desperate need, heal! Help! I must...

Trust
Responsibility
Terror breath
Sword

Giving my life source to heal the fighters
Who kill another and circle goes round
Oh what's the reason my fellow nighters
To feel the power? To hear the hero bells sound?

Revelation
Tranquility
Mind of the nature
Trees

Leaves are slowly rising, hugging in screams
Hand reaches towards me asking for shield
On view of blood and desperate dead dreams
I cry and heal and cry on this frozen battlefield

Fight
Peace
Ice bites
Silence

Loosing on snow, where nothing green grows
Few creatures heads, a dragonkin lutra
Last breath of human, eyes filled with crows
"Remember me, my name is..."

Cracking the soul

Place, where I smiled, disappeared and I am  sitting on the stone at my pond. Skull of a dead warrior resting on the bottom of the shimmering water and my feet are touching the waves. Just moments ago there were voices and hope. Now, there is nothing anymore. Just moments ago, war was raging but I had a oasis. What was once clean is tained and you can't separate blood from water in the pond. So I sit quietly. Why did this happen.

Writing my last words in the leather covered pages, in hope you will understand. They were ours to write what we can't say. But I am holding yours and you are gone. On the bottom of my pond. Why did this happen?

I read all your words out loud as you thought me once. I stop and smile and stop and cry. I reread them many times. But the past will stain forever. Even when you are just inches away, in my pond, resting, my heart cracked and all that was there is mixing with the water and blood.

I am thinking about dream I never had a chance to tell you about. It was peaceful dream about a pond, a rock and reading. I read your words and you read mine. Just peaceful dream that will never come true. Instead I am looking at you and my fingers run over words of pain and sorrow. You became quiet and I spend days yelling. But maybe I yelled the wrong way, maybe I yelled too loud, maybe I yelled the wrong pieces. I should have whispered instead. Last words I can't understand. Fearing that is regret. But whatever will be next I regret nothing but one.

That in this world of war I lost the one piece that make me look forward to another day, by my own hand.

Unwanted poem

Maybe I am just broken
story that was not meant to be told
rushed by writers hand
blank spots
ink stains
nothing you could hold
just non important poem
sad, on paper
crumpled in bin
next to poets feet.
But every poem wishes to be read
out loud
even the bad ones
even the ones with stains
droplets of salty water on my bed
as they crawl down
erasing verse after verse
written on my body

aching to be hold
page straightened
by my poets hands
as he reads every line on my skin
out loud
but instead
i am shriveled in the bin
bad poem
story of old
never to be told