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Ghostly Solitude II

Dusty sands, the brown hazy play. of particles dancing in the wild. Rest flees from the fray Of solitude, careless like a child. Feelings emerge from the ghost Wetness deprived, its right to sleep. and made to silence, a warming toast, Of friendship, in the halls of the deep. Lost in the depths of sheer insanity. sanity becomes the madness i seek I try to break free from the vanity. numbing the tyranny of cold feet As i stomp the grounds in colored hazy play, with particles ghosting in the wild. on the fields where solitude dances like a child. © Danny El. 19-2-2019
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Soulmate

The other day I wanted to see your smile in reverse. as it morphed from happiness to sadness Then play it back from that moment when you were sad, and i kissed you... and you smiled, sheepishly. I wanted to make it look like an insta-boomerang of some sort. moving back and forth, Chewing the memories with the jaws of my imaginations. I had thought at some point that what if, we could go back to when it all began... You had sat beside me in this bus headed to no destination because for me, my destination resides in you. i turned sideways and saw you reading your way into the scrolls guarding my heart. You were about to make me loose sight of perspective. So i disappeared into thin air. But who am i when thin air is the same thing that made me thin as a strand of hair because... I was almost loosing my sanity from the incessant fights to regain dominance of my perspective. You seemed like a virus, chewing and replicating yourself into the cracks within my mind, bre

Rantings of a dying dream

So here you are, Pleading with your nightmares, Asking for its forgiveness. You had earlier castrated your thoughts, Stripping it of it's ability To produce dreams. What is left now are figments of a dying past. That has no relevance in the trends of the present. So you sit by the wayside, Begging for knowledge On the streets of ignorance. No help came. Only words... Words that eat deep, painfully, Into your bones and marrows. Depriving you of the ability to hope for tomorrow. No way to augment for the times spent in the corners of joy and bliss. you flee to the sunset. Hoping to gain comfort through the eye of the needle. It only gets worse. Your eyes bleed with desire to feel the jaws of inspiration biting through your skin. Oh, that pleasure. Yes, that intoxicating pain to feel revived again. you just can't handle the streams of revelations blowing through your mind. Your soul awakens Your eyes blink to white. You begin to see... things. In the midst of

A Birthday Note

There is a land far far away. Where dreams were made diamonds  There, a maiden was born and laid. Crying, with feets of small. She had the voice of humming birds. That breaks the walls of hate. An attitude, simple and dear. That makes men beg to date. My heart is small, compared to what. I wished you on your day. If life is one, i wish you ten. With peace that leads sadness astray. The toils you face are but pathways. Through which you'll reach the end. Be steadfast dear, hold on, and pray. And see how miracles outplay. A little timid prayer dear.. That your life wont be wasted years. That you'll enjoy the dividends. Of grace, long life, in favor's realm.

I am

I am, A broken piece of clay, molded by, a Potter yet unseen A fragment of... ...mourning snow, lieutenant of the fray, blessed with cursed beauty, graced within. © Danny El.

Muted Conversation IX

Tonight i would stay awake and think about how we eloped into mysteries. You came in and stuffed my mind with effervescent chemistry. I couldn't breathe. All i knew was, i wanted to strip you naked and disvirgin your imagination with words borne from a heart yearning for intimacy. But i was dumb... silence gagged me like a prisoner tortured by the snares of grief. All i could see was temptation staring at me in stern disbelief. "Do something" my alter ego would say. But all i could do was take my mind on a erotic spree to love's garden. I would take your hands and slowly caress them light and thin. Hypnotizing my senses into the pores of your skin. I wanted you to feel what i feel. I wanted to dissolve into your memories and hack them with images of me. I wanted to wet the appetite between your thighs with testimonies of godliness and raw passion. I wanted to perform the ceremony of consummation. I would look at you and break into a smile governed by naughty ideas and

Muted Conversation VIII

I wanted to make love with your words. I wanted to caress them, savoring the cracks within your mind. maybe I did, maybe not. But one thing is certain, I almost fell in love. They say the mind of a writer is a vast labyrinth of imaginations intertwined with memories from yon past. and i think its true, because your words and your looks have the same hue. I would sit down beside you and ponder why I never knew you earlier. Maybe time and chance may have happened to us before now. but what if it never happened. I would stare into your eyes and see my scars in them and I would begin to wonder if we were twins in an alternate dimension of reality. or maybe what I see is a mirage. I would hold your hands and read the lines within and begin to see reasons why you act the way you do, I would tell you and you would call me a diviner of some sorts A soothsayer or a prophet and we would laugh into silence. Then i would touch your lips, designed with scars. i would want to caress them with mine,