Stainless :


Stern voice of these silhouettes lied.
Autumn ,not leafs but splintered feathers.
Like a tumbled life and arose eyes , i meet mortality.
Inimical truth enwreathed by the cracked mirrors , and blood filled the fissured of the palm.

Listen, answer me?
Feel the buried dark.

Tried to stand , river lugged back.
Traveling on this endless road with a deception.
Escaped from the turbulence of credence.
Here, a bird set free.


I write what i see, and feel what i breathe. Poetics, Realism is what i bathe in. Hope do i not that you see my words than just read?

%d bloggers like this: