Monthly Archives: May 2014

“The Cost of a Priceless Heart”

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Who am I to dwell into the abyss

of a wretched emotion such as Love?

That which so mercilessly murdered all

hopes and fantasies of a tormented soul.

Which stings every sentiment with false perceptions

of a world made to perfection

with a single phrase of delusion.


What am I compared to the cosmic malevolence

of a distasteful emotion such as Love?

That which begs to be felt but not understood.

Which grows around a humble heart like vines,

creeping around until the right moment,

then crushes it’s prey with forceful constriction

that splatters blood out of circulation,

rendering the body beyond restoration.


How do I placate myself whilst holding

a brutal emotion such as Love?

That which completes my being, only

to shatter it into pieces once more.

Which strives to perpetrate a crime

of consequential destruction

because of its own parasitic volition

to vanquish every other emotion



Why did I see only its Beauty from the start?

Only to be killed by the cost of a PRICELESS HEART.



“A Psychopath’s Stream of Consciousness”

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I was running…

I came to a nearby dumpster and hid behind it, in a small space, the weight of the large sack I’m carrying doing it’s best to slow me down. It’s as if it wanted to let the police catch me. They almost did, though I was lucky enough to find a nook to hide in. They won’t find me here. The repulsive stench would be enough to draw them away. And also it would camouflage the aroma from whatever’s inside the sack, now a little crimson in shade.

Footsteps… It can’t be them. Those lazy, fat doughnut gobblers would be to classy and too tired to look here. But still I had to see who those footsteps belonged to. I peeked from behind the huge thrash bin. I saw only a couple of teenagers walking, holding hands and swaying as if they were drugged or something. “Kids these days” I thought.


I come to my senses. The moonless night must be wearing me down. I sit on my flower patterned, velvet armchair. I look at my digital watch which just a minute ago beeped – signaling me that an hour has passed and it’s now 8:30 PM. Looking up from my watch, I see two wineglass near the table lamp beside me, one is full and the other half empty. I take a sip from the latter one.

I met this incredible woman earlier that day near the mall where I use to take a stroll, just admiring the fresh air. I bumped into her and apologized but she only gave a smile as a reply. I knew then that we would be friends. That same morning, I invited her to a coffee shop to express how truly sorry I am for bumping into her. We had an interesting chat. She told me that she was a writer and was on the verge of creating her first book. I smiled in return and never said a thing about my life but she never asked anyway. After our conversation we exited the coffee shop. I saw her walking down the street, her bag full of papers, including the one I slipped in; a note in which my number and my address was written.


I rub my eyes and inhale the fume of smoke from a factory beside my apartment room. An hour has passed again since I last checked my watch. I hear a buzz behind me. I sit straight and twist around my comfy sofa to check where the noise was coming from. It’s a small bee perched on top of my old and dusty typewriter, the surface covered in dust. What an odd sight it was . I turn back and ignore the harmless insect. Contemplating on the forgotten seems a little bit unnecessary to me.

Come to think of it, it has been years since I last used that typewriter. I used to compose romance novels and I have to say I was rather good at it. I jabbed away all those fantasies inside my brain and put them into written words. I had quite a knack for it though my friends, few as they were, always asked me “All those stories you’ve written and you’ve never experienced those in real life?” I just tuned out their teasing remarks and continued writing more romantic novels for the public to read. Though in the back of my mind I was thinking “Someday I will find her.”


I check my watch again. It reads 10:00 PM. I’m sure they must have figured it out by now. I jostle on my armchair and wait for something I’ve waited since earlier this evening. I look again beside me and saw the wineglass, the one still full. “If only she came here and not ignored me.” I ponder. I reach under the table where the wine glass sit and bring out a thick photo album. I flip through the pages as I look at her pictures and news clippings once more. The wine inside the glass ripples as I hear a loud knock at the door. Finally. Someone calls out from outside, his voice muffled by the thick door in front of me which separated us.

Bang! A gunshot I presume. Then the door flings open and in come a dozen police, all spilling inside while pointing their guns at me. The chief, I notice because of his badge, asks me a single question which I find amusing – “Where is the body?”

I grin in return, not saying anything else. They cuff me and drag me down the apartment and through the busy street and inside one of their police cars. As the driver turns on the ignition I take one last look out the window and see two teenagers walking past the commotion, holding hands while swaying. “Kids these days” I complain under my breath and can’t help but smile as I remember a certain foul place…


“Once Before”



Where? where has

it all gone to?

Why, why did it

fade away? —

Born into a world

of metal skies and black soil.

Acquainted with every clang and

piercing whisper of iron against iron.

Billowing dark clouds blurring

the world Once Before, as if a

twisted kaleidoscope of rotten dreams.

Splendor washed away

by ambitious creations

of the world to be.

Turning all of reality

into a distorted face of the future. —

Hear! oh hear

the music of the Once Before.

The metronome beat of wings in the air,

filling the wind with melody of lore,

unknown to the Destroyers.

Witness the unveiled orchestra

of unfamiliar colors, singing in rhyme

with the Once Before.—

What was gone was forgotten.

But for how long will it end?

Can the incurable mend?…

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“Death by the Alley”



Darkness creeps through every corner

my eyes couldn’t yet comprehend.

Repulsive stench of unwanted waste surround

what’s left of my existence: a dismembered body

of innocence tarnished with unholy hands

of a psychopath’s thirst. Silver rays from the sky

crawled through tiny cracks just to insult

my crimsoned body with their shine.

As if to reiterate their purity

with such sarcastic irony

of the heedful tone of a loved one.

Short memories flood my dreamscape  that would

comfort and torment me in the afterlife. Oh how

little time was in my hands, squandered away by a murderous strike.

Merciful Assassin! You know me not yet you still

gave in to your demonic desires. What my meek heart

could not grasp is the frailty of human flesh.

Fading, wilting, withering, escaping footholds of my soul

would let me decay in this putrid alley of my grave.

If I may be so brave to…

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“E. lusive”




Wish of flesh fulfilled.

Ecstatic daughter of spring, your

elegance bring. Arrest me with

those eyes of the silver moon.

Did you not so alluringly

entrance me with your beauty?

Aesthetic orgasm of the Heart.

Did I not succumb so eagerly,

lost in your labyrinth of pity?

Youthful pulsation of Blood.

Longing for thy lips,

oblivious to your charming trap

veiled by that playful kiss.



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“Beautiful Nightmare”





When I fall to a thousand stars

in the void of space above.

Curled into the blankets of despair,

floating alone on air, never hoping

for hope that would ever come.

A Light…..

Passes through the horizon,

though faint, t’was still brighter than dawn.

My dreamscape ripples with amusement

from an unexpected guest, who to my amazement

beautified my nightmarish solitude.


All those hope to escape a once crumbling

devastation of a numbing isolation.

Now yearning to stay in this dark, star-lighted

space I share with you.