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
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