Morose Stories

"Another night, a passerby and a glass of yesterday. My mind is shy, my heart is dry; I've drank the glass, I won't be here today." ~ Glass of Yester ~ My poem

An experience on the street: endless possibilities, but only one happens. Appreciate life; we each have but one.

The collection of compositions with absolutely no poetic forms and constritions followed. It is an ENJAMBMENT of daily basis. Only the flow of words, sometimes in waves. But with all time deep sense of meanings and some time of ambiguity too. This collection would service as a MOON in the darkness to the beloved readers

You're alone, you're unloved and unappreciated. You feel despised, because in everything you do, you're always in pain. You can't be blamed for that. If your soul is on fire, maybe this will speak understanding to you.

The body is but a transport for the mind. However, if the body were to fail while the mind continues to live, the mind then becomes trapped in the body. Everything becomes nothing to you and nothing becomes everything for you. This story will not scare you immediately, it will not cause you to scream nor gasp. It will create a burden in your heart, a fear you never realized before, one that may haunt you...

Collection of eloquent thoughts to put into some morbid and dark words.

The transformation from child to doll. First: Put patches above the flesh. Second: Fill with magical plush stuffing. Third: Give crystal eyes. Fourth: Take care of them and love them. A child lost within the woods without a clue of a past life or name stumbles upon a weathered house. Merely six, it decides to ask for help to find its parents. A lonely mage opens the door, allowing the child in while making it aware that it doesn't have the mother its searching for. She never existed. What seems normal takes a turn when the child is turned into a doll and the mage chooses to take care of it. The odd relationship of doll and mage lies within these pages. Where are the child's parents? Why don't they have memories but a sense of them? How does the mage know about his mother's nonexistence? Will the immortally childish doll be created? Cover by @-stellae Awards: Winner of the Sweets Awards 2nd in Short Story in The Seraph Awards

literal 9th grade poetry // "some feelings are forever ironic: only when i am most lost does a firefly's nightcandle alight before my cozy corner in this void; at least when my fingers hold a pen, i feel a semblance of touching it." // there's always so much still left to say, so i tell it to the page; you are welcome to listen. ~ hymn ©2019

texte qui m'est venu quand je n'allais pas bien.

Drifting through life..

Love is insane. Morose

Just some poems I have wrote. Mostly me just venting and maybe the occasional drawing. Sorry. This is yet another mistake along with my existence. But this mistake is going to keep on living. Look up to the sky Where the stars lie But i stay on the ground Because to it I am bound.

I am on a journey. It is merciless and never-ending. These are the stories of my journey. These are my entries. They might not make much sense, but they are, and forever will be, from the depths of me.

"𝙙𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙞 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙." ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒚; ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡