Poetry is lost magic,
trying to come to the surface,
wandering souls full of music,
lost worlds looking in your face
and mysterious tunes of times past...
Tincling,weeping and laughing at Time.

I dont want to want anymore.
Our life is many wants.
One want chases another ,
until you realise there is nothing left....

There is the girl with stars in her eyes,
dead stars they are
and her soul is black
as coal..

What if i died?
You would see my soul float
and my eyes blanch.
How would you feel if you lost me?
Not bad, i assume.
My ghost would haunt the places
I should have seen
and comfort the hurt of the broken hearts.
That's my job.