The roses of Love glad the garden of life,
  Though nurtur’d ’mid weeds dropping pestilent dew,
Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife,
  Or prunes them for ever, in Love’s last adieu!

In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart,
  In vain do we vow for an age to be true;
The chance of an hour may command us to part,
  Or Death disunite us, in Love’s last adieu!

Still Hope, breathing peace, through the grief-swollen breast,
  Will whisper, “Our meeting we yet may renew:”
With this dream of deceit, half our sorrow’s represt,
  Nor taste we the poison, of Love’s last adieu!

Oh! mark you yon pair, in the sunshine of youth,
  Love twin’d round their childhood his flow’rs as they grew;
They flourish awhile, in the season of truth,
  Till chill’d by the winter of Love’s last adieu!

Sweet lady! why thus doth a tear steal its way,
  Down a cheek which outrivals thy ***** in hue?
Yet why do I ask?—to distraction a prey,
  Thy reason has perish’d, with Love’s last adieu!

Oh! who is yon Misanthrope, shunning mankind?
  From cities to caves of the forest he flew:
There, raving, he howls his complaint to the wind;
  The mountains reverberate Love’s last adieu!

Now Hate rules a heart which in Love’s easy chains,
  Once Passion’s tumultuous blandishments knew;
Despair now inflames the dark tide of his veins,
  He ponders, in frenzy, on Love’s last adieu!

How he envies the wretch, with a soul wrapt in steel!
  His pleasures are scarce, yet his troubles are few,
Who laughs at the pang that he never can feel,
  And dreads not the anguish of Love’s last adieu!

Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o’ercast;
  No more, with Love’s former devotion, we sue:
He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast;
  The shroud of affection is Love’s last adieu!

In this life of probation, for rapture divine,
  Astrea declares that some penance is due;
From him, who has worshipp’d at Love’s gentle shrine,
  The atonement is ample, in Love’s last adieu!

Who kneels to the God, on his altar of light
  Must myrtle and cypress alternately strew:
His myrtle, an emblem of purest delight,
  His cypress, the garland of Love’s last adieu!

'My dear sister, Mary, our sister Surah this kingdom wants to rule.

Every time she talks to Richard, Surah tries to treat him like a fool.'

'Anne, the old castle in the forest has become the demons' home.

There is darkness around her, when the woods she wants to roam.'


Surah was living in her old castle, in a dense forest being hidden.

It was a sinister place used for satanic activities, the light being forbidden.

It had a demonic altar, and a horrible stench was emanating from that place.

A scent came from the decaying victims, which disappeared without a trace.


The castle was keeping strange noises such as gasps, sobs, and screams.

A humongous spider web had been stretched across the way of wood's dreams.

The castle was draped in a sticky awful mess from its entrance to the towers.

Nothing could live in that place, and its garden had only thistles as flowers.


The castle was very different in its style needing a complete renovation.

She learned about some ancient herbal medicines in that place of damnation.

There was only one servant, who was keeping always on his face a glower.

His main duty was to read a book in order to keep safe the crystal's power.


Surah entered the castle having an ecstatic conclusion about her stride.

'How are you, sweetheart? You must know all the wonders of my inside!'

Clayton told her, 'Because goodness, and badness always can intertwine,

Inside twisted, happiness, and sorrow are always both equally divine.'


'I see my everlasting alter ego in the mirror of fate being transfigured.

Should I ever become this demon?',' I see that your image is disfigured.'

'This demon, who resides inside of me, also in John, will place his seeds.'

'How can you be so cruel? In this moment, my heart solemnly bleeds.'


'Father is dead, mother is quite alive, the girl may meet her end.'

She laughed, 'I'm well prepared to help them, because they need a friend.'

'Do you mean that they will die? Shall I really become so scared?'

'No, my dear, they will have a long sleep, and their doors will be barred.


Now, look at the processes, through which the alchemical content

Passes from the time it is placed here until it can have a new major scent.'

Solid becomes liquid through the filtration of the partially dissolved suspension

Being converted into a vaporous state with the aid of the heat, and the tension.


Distillation, separation, and rectification can disunite this new substance

For the fascination. Do you think she's really in want of this sustenance?

After converting this substance into a powder by the action of heat, I will add

Some different ingredients into a new mass by blending them.' 'You are mad!'


'Not at all. It works. Then, I will wait for purification through putrefaction,

For inhibition, fermentation, fixation, multiplication, and for a new projection.

When my potion will be ready, I will go to the castle to give it to Jezebel to drink.

This potion will have a red color, and a good taste. What do you think?'

Star crossed lovers, were we
Passion burning bright
We took upon wings
It began to take flight

Wordless conversation
Your name on my breath
Macabre heart melodies
And the dance of death

My ultimate act of hope
An act of valor
Desolate tears
Adoration colored pallor

Acid dipped colloquy
Mind tires, succumbs
Angelic contradictions
Senses numbs

Whispers of footsteps
Paramours’ ceasefire
Blood spilled emotions
No longer my desire

Unwept severed promises
Hearts struggle to breathe
Disunite in same direction
Faceless anonymity

Anthropology suggests there was a time
When no communication was spoken by men,
Merely embryonic sounds to express
Primitive thoughts, until development called
For evolution to inspire, words holding meaning.

Religion narrates archaic stories of Babel,
Of a common tongue bonding civilisations
Building a Tower, until the Lord witnessed
The limitless ability of a unified humanity and decided,
To confuse their speech to disunite them.

Esotericism puts forth the ancient possibility
Of a coalescing language to be found in telepathy,
Unable to hide, disguise or lie, until men felt
The need to do so, creating lemmas that would conceal
Their real intentions and their true self.

Now if someone in English is a person and no one
Is nobody, and in Italian the someone is a persona
And the nobody is nessuno, when the French call both
The someone and the nobody personne, what does it do

To the understanding of each other?

I’m not writing to externalize my weeping or to release my pain, on the contrary, I just want to remember you and materialise my thoughts in a way that our love seems alive.

Because you’ve kind of vanished these past months, and I’m really starting to believe that I’m on my own, but don’t blame me if I still feel your presence, even though I don’t share it with anyone, not even with you. But my Love, your presence has a much greater value than to be shared and my heart is much too delicate to be opened. I’m working on rebuilding it; it’s just taking a little more than expected.

I don’t talk about you as much as I should, I guess I don’t want to share you, I just want to keep you in that sacred place of yours, where there’s only you, where no one can disrupt us, no force is the universe could be strong enough to disunite us.
Just know that my silence isn’t a proof of my indifference, my deepest sorrows are my silent ones.

But baby I do try once in a while, to let someone know you’re still on my mind. Sometimes it’s all want to say. Very often it’s all I think about, that I don’t feel alive except when you’re here, that you make me feel greater than I actually am.
You’re the glut of the Love I hold, the overflow of my feelings and the scarcity of my joy.
But how can I even speak of joy when you’re away?
And how could I ever be happy when you’re the one that redefined happiness?
You may say that I lost myself when you went away, but I’d rather get lost in you than to ever lose you.

Americans have made a decision.
Why did they decide
To put someone into office who
Will take them for a ride?

They elected a man so full
Of vengeance and desperation
That his campaign was principally
Lies and misinformation.

He pandered to the people's worries--
Worries that he created
By turning people against the folks
That he has deprecated.

He won't focus on key issues;
No, those he ignores.
He would rather perpetuate
Hateful culture wars.

Islamo-, trans-, and homophobia
Will now be on the rise
As players in Trump's administration
Begin to mobilize

Racist stooges surrounding him
Will always be in his ear,
Chipping away at human rights
And constantly stoking fear.

The deportation of immigrants
He says is first on his list
Of things to do, for he is such
A heartless nativist.

Loyalty above all else
Is what he always demands.
With autocrats all over the world,
He'll be shaking hands.

We’ve all seen that Trump's whole world
Is strictly quid pro quo.
With Elon Musk so tight with him,
Will Musk be running the show?

With no more guardrails to keep Trump in line,
He'll FURTHER disunite
Americans, and that will be
Much to Putin's delight.

I'm glad I wasn't complicit in choosing
One of the vilest of men
To take a seat in the Oval Office
And wreck the country again.

-by Bob B (11-13-24)