The king is dead he never rose
from his resting place, chose
instead to be the embodiment
of a false fable writing the copyist.

Within a cave of delusions that kept
the image of false motives hidden.
An off spring of a method not unkempt.
this version the kept reasoning now forbidden.

Delusions of two reflections not seeing that
one is not a king but a falsehood sat on divided chat.
Neither were a failing, but reflections of a belief
that were conflicting upon a tree with a twinned leaf.

But when one must fall, both will simultaneously
greet the earth with a momentary spontaneously.
Always will one be ahead of the other claiming divine
leading, and others follow this moment of design.

But every king has a past that is woven in misbelief,
for all false kings can bring is an unethical belief
that they are the true monarch of a world run by many
where brothers & sisters there just spinning a single  penny

And maybe just maybe at that fleeting moment my heart started to grow

How did I never notice at that moment your words truly reached the bottom of my untamed soul

And now everything flows so smoothly

Looking into the sky’s I could hear birds sing and the winds blowing breeze brushing along against the trees

We watch as the light of the day turns into a beautiful starry night

Constellations scattering along you and I

Deeply lost in your eyes

Laid out on the grass we watch time pass

We tell each other our deepest dreams unwinding us from the seams of the blanket we lay upon

But I believe that time is an overrated thing

Yet I narrate the time that you spend with me  

And then it all ends as time tinkers away

We both go our own separate ways

We grow apart like night into day

Like sunset into sunrise with such dismay

Things were so clear with you, but now it’s gone

I’m sorry even when we tell each other our dreams I can’t keep my eyelids shut

You pick me up, but I let you down

And I’ve caught you running through my head again

Trespassing in my mind

You steal all my thoughts away

You do it all the time now

Within a casket of echoes
does the mirage of
      truth become stained
into a conciseness of delusions.
                 But still they are slaves..

Altercations of past inclinations
that merit, reflection of
                          misguided minds.
But with no morals they digress,
      standing on illusions of nothingness.

Where another doesn't tread,
                      fed to others delusions
of negativities prompting lies upon
lie with no merit only golden goblets
drinking upon the weakness of others.

Do not confuse attention with affection my dear, that boy would just as soon leave you as he would hold your hand.

A caliph trembles at the sound of aircraft
like a dachshund beaten too much while
his pack snap and bite and **** their legs
to *** on a better world

Their state is a chewed thighbone
covered in flies yet they mint coins
in gold and silver and praise God as they
throw effeminate teenagers off rooftops

A Turkish fisherman with a large shoe
stuffs cash into a pregnant pocket
and crams frightened souls into the shoe
which sinks on the horizon like the sun

Assassins have the crescent moon
in their left hands ***** pictures
on their phones and tight vests
leaking lava

She searched for tips on eyeliner
the day she erupted as a volcano
leaving her sheer blouse to mourn
at home on the ironing board

The world has become as mad
as Napoleon in stiletto heels
cross-legged on the back
of a tortoise singing Hey Jude

i am a passenger
free to roam on the east sides
of redundancy and table manners

flower markets thrive on dawn skies
arranged as tourist spots
the baker's fair selling eggshells
cracked on cobblestone soup
meatpies sold out too soon
appleseeds scattered for birds

i sweep them all up
and see patterns grow on my skin

let it not be said i did not try, i did not do
for too soon the the heat covers the shade as well
and not even the acacia can go without thirst

fill my cup with honeydew milk
and add bittergourd and salt

i can let philistine warriors come from the backroads
and enter the frontlines
if only to join you

Voices rang in her head as if trying to communicate that something had been lacking for such a substantial time that she no longer saw it as lacking but as the normality that it served in her life.
She became accustomed to the constant lacking of sustainability that it served as nothing but a blanket of sheer comfort to her being.
Uncertainty was the one certain correlation between holding on and feeling fulfillment because it was the only common trait anyone had ever presented at the doorstep of truth she held so dearly to her heart.
She became fixed on it - searching for the ability to communicate emotion and more so the constant question of whether or not her invested time had been to them what it was to her ever longing, love struck, wanderlust soul.
Was she a fool or was she holding onto the parts of those around her that even they failed to recognize exist?
Foolish or foreseeing?
She had yet to decipher the difference and had but the slightest clue as to if she ever would, and that served as comfort to her misguided heart.