hodeng

In the dance of mortem and amare, love and death intertwine. Beneath the moon’s pale gaze, two shadows twist and bind. A rose wilts in the frost, its petals kissed by night. Yet still it blooms in memory, where passion’s fire burns bright. For what is life without any ending?—a hollow dream. The hourglass of

In the mist of serene hues,A lingering ray of gold spurned,Embracing the gray stone with warmth.Out came the stoneFrom the clutch of the vain,Thought to be vice,Yet melted into golden sparks.Wandering was the stone.The gold spurned and raised hope;The hope of affection,The hope of love,The hope of care.Barren in the cycle of the gray stone,The

I press’d mine tongue within this humble cup…

The morning chorusA vibrant landscapePetrichor;Sweet earthy scentInvading my sensesTree leaves flirtatiouslyDancing with the wind,Flowers blooming; petals uncurlingExposing their silk & velvet insidesParading their vibrant colors to the sun,Vulnerable to the butterfliesAnd bees in abundanceBusy feasting on their nectar. The vivid green grass continuesTo lend its carpeted splendorWeaving a magic so surrealSpeaking a language so foreignYet

The ink runs dry on trembling hands,a soldier writes on foreign lands.Aca ndle flickers, the shadows grow,his heartbeat slows, yet time won’t show. “My love, the war has turned me stone,yet in your arms, I’m flesh and bone.The cannons roar, the trenches weep,but thoughts of yOu are mine to keep.” The air is thick with

A call when Helios blinds my eyes, Making me leap up from the soft coat. Stories that never saw an ending; The regret that still churns my stomach. To this day, I shall remember How black my heart was. To this day, I shall remember How I heeded those doting eyes. To this day, I