This is a wretched phase better expressed by not alone, so I pen the words - intending to find what really matters. I have began to close a few chapters, and will my self to be louder than the thoughts in my head. In search to understand the depths of sadness, the depths of being, there are infinite possibilities I could think of. Hopefully I could rediscover even a few. Melancholy (JA, 2016)

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Desolation © 2015, Sparble

'Humans are just like flowers. They wilt if they are abandoned, but they grow into such wonderful things if they're raised with love. Flowers don't bloom in an instant; it takes patience... patience.' He thought his year was going to be an uneventful one. He thought he was going to be 'just another face' in the crowd. He thought it was all going to be easy. Well, he thought wrong--life was never easy after all, and it sure was going all-out on him. Desolation © 2015, Sparble

An expression or burst of emotions, a place of solace from suicide and depression. May be an art or a form of liberation-probably a loss of sanity driven from hungry memories; to understand and listen to the stories around us, a passion-driven delirium. Poetry-and a simple compilation of the things that are quietly and patiently caged in my mind. These are simple thoughts out of the billions of human and living species out there. Liberation-that is all it wants, and it stays here, imprinted for a lifetime; until all we know ceases to exist. Entendre © 2015, Sparble