An arachnoid predator spins its specious relationship with magnetic dark web allure Its prey the young, lonely, naive; those vulnerable to its enticements Caught within its toxic grasp Forever scarred and tainted


Again with the winter lament he said Our winters are nothing compared to other countries He couldn’t understand the metaphorical connections I made Souls and seasons bonded by breath on a frosted eve yet my ice caged heart yearned for him to bring me to spring

The trust we’ve repeatedly destroyed by seeking to fulfil our individual need rather than gaining pleasure fulfilling the needs of others is now tangible The broken trust now fuels the eternal mechanics of human narcissism that rules hell on earth

A hue of blue from setting pale moonlight covered the weight of regret in the afterglow A smog of mood starts to recall two bodies dancing their sex in the shadows but drunkenness now wains & clarity shocks the senses at sunrise

Svelte and sophisticated she stood gazing out across the ocean. Appearing lost in thought, it was widely known that she was mentally preparing for the battle that would surely come with the dawn. As she watched the moon lower in the sky and a glow heralding the appearance of the sun on the horizon she slowly allowed the long flowing dress of satin to shimmer down, caressing her form as it fell to the ground. Along with the fall of her gown fell the role of the priestess that she truly was. From the rock along side her she dressed in the garb of the general she had no choice but to become, in order to lead her army to battle and her people would follow her anywhere. She would lead them her heart heavy as she knew the death toll would be high but they fought for something greater their freedom from tyranny and She would die fighting to help them achieve it. The last strappings in place she fastened her scabbards and strode to her mount looking over her shoulder she spied the first red glow heralding the dawn

Rap or crap?

Don’t call me blood, I ain’t your muvver, I ain’t your sister and you ain’t my bruvver . Don’t know why you even talk like that, your spouting words that are full of cxxp
You don’t get it Rap is poetic your wannabe gangster style is just paffetic
You ain’t making a statement that socially led you never had to worry when you next bein fed. You ain’t worried bout getting work you nuffin but a fucking jerk… get it

Lingering thoughts
Agitate the periphery
Complete deflection futile
Forget it is useless advice
Feeling of anguish
Echoes a bruised ego
Prompted move on
Sing another song
Easy to say without charity
Processing his Infidelity