A poem that should not exist.
Category: english poetry
Creation
As the night is descending And I feel its gentle touch Embrace me once more, I want to run and fade into The tender nothingness Of the darkness, whispering My poetry to the wind, So I may lose my consistency And fall apart, To merge with everything I have never known And leave nothing But … Continue reading Creation
Fragments
Teardrops Made of ink, Born from an ocean, Are falling To the ground, Covered in sheets Of white paper. Each sheet Catches a different drop, Witnesses That are yet Too fragile To drown you, Too solid To be forgotten, Waves that are Not strong enough To reach the … Continue reading Fragments
English is cool, right ? #03
Do you know him ? She is quite a peculiar individual.
An encounter
Hello life, My old friend, How have you been without me? I'm terribly sorry for my absence, But you know, You are quite complicated When you're having a bad time. From now on, I'll try to keep up with you, But considering your uncertainty, I cannot promise Not to lose sight of you again. … Continue reading An encounter
Ages of the sun
While watching the sunset lately, I suddenly started thinking about the inseperable link between the sun and human life, not only in a scientific way, but also in a spiritual and transcendent way. This was the result. A red shade Is wandering through the sky, A time traveller Telling tales and legends … Continue reading Ages of the sun
Chasing the horizon
A road as old as humanity, that has been travelled by all kinds of beings. Soldiers, dictators and nuclear lobbyists as well as slaves, test animals and child workers have known its course and left it covered by scars and blood. Continuing endlessly it touches the very end of the red horizon, crossed by poisoned … Continue reading Chasing the horizon
English is cool, right ? #2
It really isn't easy to think of a title sometimes. The poem's alright though (I think)
My home is the world
This is a poem that I wrote some years ago, but to me, it has lost nothing of its accuracy. The picture was drawn by a very talented friend of mine and inspired me to write this poem. I have no country or city to call home. My home does not consist … Continue reading My home is the world

