Used like a rented house, daresay a whore.
With every soul I met, I stepped back some more.
Imagined monstrosities felt a chill from Ties and the boot.
Inquiring eyes followed, resisted every step,
Judging every action. Sugary words followed,
tearing away every bit of innocence and joy,
UntilĀ I felt no more, adding one to the heard of demons.
Symphony became cacophony, blood turned white,
stabbing backs, earning titles just to be stabbed,
by the likes of me, every time I emerged but cold.


Soldier’s fear.

I do not fear death, at the same time I cherish my life.
The mere reason that I cherish my life, and of those around me, takes away the fear of death.
I do not care how ferocious is the demon that I fight.
As long as he is a demon I will fight.
The worst of my fears is fighting a man, normally living earth dwelling man.
I fear the voice which tells me that the demon whom I fight is, in fact, a man,
that he also has someone to protect.
That he also is comfortable fighting demons.
That he also demonizes me.
That he also fears to face a man.
That he also is just like me.
That killing him is just a suicide.


The fabric of dreams
binds flesh to bones,
entangles a seed to a womb,
guides a bird’s flight,
weaves an inescapable web,
the one we call time.
The fabric of dreams
holds planets in orbits,
makes the ever shining sun,
pierce through every known star,
makes a garland we call Universe.