hey handsome with african features that brought me home
i used you for what its worth. hearts that never twined togather
kissing you was a pleasure of mine. growing weak with every moment
loving you never experienced. *** with you was me comparing
hey handsome with african features that brought me home
confused wanting to trust, love.  as i try to let go only pushed you further
we held each other hostage that night your hands touched my soul
hey handsome with african features that brought me home
its good bye for now until the stars line up and you are found

I conduct the symphony of hell
In the earths bowels overflowing with sin
Silence rules momentarily
My infamous symphony begins
Demons of evil and nightmares
Eagerly pluck their human strings

Screaming and wailing
The music starts
Moans of the ******
Terrible and dark

Burst forth now the crescendo of souls
From the burning pit of fire
Each suffers their own punishment
The offense of mortal desire

Sounds of tortured emotions
Those inflicted with the devils disease
Shrill and high
An allotted part have they
In my arrangement of mad melodies

So into hells depth I delve
For music that can be found no where else
These are the notes of the condemned
I am the conductor
Of my symphony in hell



This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),

I burnt my tongue a week ago--
Too much of scalding coffee and lies [on your part],
But I swallowed it with a couple of anti-depressants
I have forgotten how creamy, toffee powdered mocha tastes like and your lips,
They used to taste like macchiato, as time passed by,
                                                                ­         Maple leaves drizzled autumn, burst into slashing icy winter,
Your lips started tasting like black coffee, like tar, most of the days it’s only a figure of speech,
Warning sign blinking all day long in my head, when I can’t hold it in my fingers,
When it’s escaping out of my grasp, ready to run, making space for the sugary vanilla layer
But then there are days, when you find your way back underneath my sheets,
My duvet, the only witness, sadly silent all too similar to my will power screaming inside my head,
And here are you fictious sentences, framed with such precise,
Knocking down all the walls I tried to built, leading to defeat,
                                                                ­                     Holding me chained like a slave.
All my fury fueled sentences burn like fire, vengeful riff of an electric guitar within my mind,
When your fingers encircle me, rough nibs of your lips on the nape of neck, palm tracing lies on my tailbone
All the fire drowns in crafted lies, ashes of my dignity scattered, a bleak watered down-
                                                           ­                    Note of a single string as the soundtrack of my misery.
I burnt my tongue last night--
Too much of your blazing skin and lies but I spitted it all out,
This brittle heart not so brittle anymore heated at 1,300*c, on the kiln again and again-
                                                          ­                                                   To form an everlasting nature.
Arteries have clotted, hatred burning bright within, lungs suffocating starving for oxygen and blood,
Like the dragon breathes fire, I’ll breathe out the scathing curses; and leave with my dignity intact
Barely responding to all your shameless deeds.