The Maelstrom

The delirium is the insanity of my adjusted - equilibrium reality,
Don't really care for my expenses to exist,
As they do not care for me;
The Difference that doesn't share the Contrast -
Living, Squirming, Loving, Flaking alone,
I believe in the monotonous tone;
Leading to my debauchery brier.
Such revelations you can hear
On this insipid plane

Watch out! Watch out for me before i fade out!
Look out at the sea,
There is a churning - a calling!
"Hear Out!"The seamen they say,
"It's the 'Maelstrom' consorting!"

The Return

Save the turf of folly,
As I again come back crashing;
Boiling with a temptation within this curse,
Of the fickleness that happened to me.

Turned to the times of woven blames,
To find the piece that had landed from me;
Now hearing what had so long been lost,
Came a sound so close to me.

Prologue

I am to dew,
Like the winter winds;
The blades,
Of my thirsty tongue.

Currents

Harshest of the foggy treatments

Met my withered autumn thoughts;

Screeching pleas against the concrete Earth floor,

Howling is my blackened bile as the crescent implores.

There were a many times.

When the hook had to ease the noose.

When the breath had to ease a doom.

Violet of my presented past.

Nestled, girdled in the past.
She wandered off on her own;
I came swiftly after to seek her,
That one summer she couldn’t last.
Laymen, speculated the unexpected chill inside,
I believed –
Much of warmth she didn’t need,
Comingly, some violets I yearn to see;
Let out, dismissed on her grave defiantly.

Without it, should anything exist?

How hollow canals do hear?
Pungent humors yet they bear,
If would they not, how would they exist;
Brawling night that would have to seer.

We listened to it, heard it all,
It said of the greasy golden rules,
Standing for humans and the mules;
Yet if they looked at our sordid past –
Stood the evil reckoning behind the crimson walls.

I am breaking my rules, sadly, relying my past,
Somehow, should have learned – the disgrace, the injured glass.
Believe, Betray for none I care,
Reasons for this day to decay.

The Stranded Craft

Neither Cold, Not either Warmth,
What sets me awake is the humid,
I cast the windows apart,
Waking to the morning break,
- The clear sky.

Nothing instilled but elven blight,
Today was the day to set sail again,
To reach, now, legions beyond – the fog, the mist -
Cryptic raven is now the Darkened Veil.

Should look the harbor anew?
Should be sung the ballads high?
Why are not fed the elven sails full?
And why lies low, the mystic rudder, under a spell?

Replies Reason;
“Master, the Lunar has been sailing idle days,
For it doesn’t lure the tidal nymph too near.”

Replies Eros,
“Pardon the difference sire,
It’s the Love not the Lunar that lacks,
Too much of the Sacred Ocean has been drunk,
Equal the teary grove in every warm bed.
The magic lost in love cannot put sail to your earthly lust,
What had to be put to sail is now aground held.”