Don’t We All Elope With Life?

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Don’t we all elope with life

Cheating on our matrimony with death?

Isn’t life nothing but infidelity

An affair with this finite breath?

When You Sit Down To Pen Your Serenade

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When you sit down to pen your serenade

Write it in my name

But don’t enchant the words upon a pulpit

In the quest of some fickle fame.

There is a Rare Romance in Sadness

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There is a rare romance in sadness

The sensation of which is I adore

My soul radiates a morbidity so hopeful

It engulfs me as I keep longing for more.

Elsewhere

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I have another life

In another universe, another time.

When I am there,  

The angles whisper in my ears

Telling me I belong Elsewhere

Elsewhere-

The Detour

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The sky is fading in twilight. He is strolling his way home, each footstep reminding him how fatigued he feels. His body is imploring him in aches to call it a day. A straight lane takes him back to his humble abode. No fuss, no trouble, just a simple straight walk back home. Once he is there, his bones will slumber into repose. He’ll rest his back and fall asleep to the sweet lullaby of the cozy winter right beside the fireplace.