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By Aditya Nandkumar Garde There are nights when the world forgets to sleep,  and I, despite all reason, find myself waiting. Then, like moonlight upon still water, you arrive…  quietly, without announcement, without permission. In the delicate hush of slumber, you step into my dreams,  with the gentleness of a whispered promise. And somehow, somehow, my sleep no longer belongs to me. You colour my dreams in silver, in warmth, in a stillness that even the stars envy.  You stay

By Ian MacLean White hot. Tendrils caressing me, Flicking me. Licking me. Making rigid My once hard shell. The heat of her embraces me. Rhythmic gyrations o’er take me. Achingly I fall prey to her spell. Twisting.  Thrusting. Rolling, Near busting, I swell. Her heat, now my heat. I feel her inside me. Here now, the end. From the inside  I melt.  By Ian MacLean

By Ian MacLean Sundry items from my past Haunt me, Taunt me. Hollow memories of who I was Last week Last month  Last year. A carefully curated collection  Of stories long past. Collecting dust on the shelf Eager to be picked up, Eager to be read anew. By Ian MacLean

By Ian MacLean Bloated. Rotting. Festering. Littering the floor Before ominous doors long locked. Keys,  long lost in the sands of time. This great hall Sang once of courage, of hope. A chapel bathed in the light Of love,  of dreams. Now dismal,  silent. A tomb of intent long dead  ‘neath a mountain of fears By Ian MacLean

By Ian MacLean A perspective shift Brilliant colours of decay Find beauty in death By Ian MacLean

By Ian MacLean Bane of my existence Thorn in my side Stealing much Giving little  Fourfold resistance Persistence is futile Well laid intentions  Set aloft at whim Yet still  I put my face to you Yet still I stand  In spite of you By Ian MacLean

By Ian MacLean Perspective t                      i                       l                        t                         s Life wi            lt              s Sweet aroma of decay A catch of breath  Stunning hues of death Renewal                Not far away By Ian MacLean

By Rashad Booker A breath, a spark a whisper born, From silent night to crimson morn. The heart learns rhythm, eyes find light, Dreams unfold in tender flight. Seasons turn, the colors fade, Footprints soften where hopes were laid. What once began in hush and bloom Returns again to nature’s Womb. No end, no start just flowing thread, Life’s gentle dance of quick and dead. Each ending hums a new born song Where we were, we still belong. By Rashad Booker

By Rashad Booker Wounded heart is a wounded soul that’s been through a lot that is slowly growing old because  the love and respect that they once had pain and rejection stole. They seek passion, crave  attention, and demand validation from others because their self-image has been forsaken, hurt to  the core current perception of love has been shattered and shaken. The pain manifests in which it destroys the mind and heart, impairs the vision and corrupts the  thoughts. So, t

By Rashad Booker No horned fiend with cloven hoof,  no pitch fork’s gleam, no fiery proof  Of brimstone’s wrath or hellish cries,  the truest devil in mankind lies. It seeds itself in quiet thought,  A sly suggestion, subtly wrought, A whisper oft when truth is clear, To plant the doubt, to foster fear. It is the greed that claws and takes, The envy that spirit breaks, The pride that builds a golden throne, Where pity is a seed un-sown. It crafts a mask of righteousness,  for

By Rashad Booker Lust Skin like burning silk- Ecstasy drips, thick as wine- Now the bed is worms. Gluttony Feast of crimson fruit, Juice runs down my starving chin- Stomach bursts with rust. Greed Gold fills my black veins, Pockets heavy, heart still starves- Midas turns to dust. Sloth Dreams cling like spiderwebs, Soft arms cradle my decay- Rot becomes my crown. Wrath Blade sings, hot and sweet, Fury paints the walls so bright- Now the dark won’t speak. Envy Eyes chew throug

By Rashad Booker In the warm light of her kitchen, she stirs the pot of forgotten dreams spices swirling like  thoughts she dares bot to season with words. Her fingers dance on porcelain counters casting  shadows of magic, yet her heart is a heavy stone, tethered by fears she cannot sever. He, with wings of earth, darkness, and light walks softly through her stormy skies of emotions  unaware of what the temptress is brewing. The flickering flame of unspoken affection Masked b

By Rashad Booker I’ve walked through mirrors where reflection cried, been in situations where I had to swallow my  pride. My feet have trod on pathways made of mist, kissed by a sun that never quite existed I’ve  held the silence of a cosmic void and felt the universe, both unalloyed and destroyed. Where sorrows brewed and laughter turned to stone, I carried mountains, not of earth or bone.  Woven shadows heavy as dream, and watched my spirit flow against the stream, my vesse

By Rashad Booker Beneath the hush of midnight skies our souls interweave where now can see us, a secret flame  behind the eyes that burns in silent alchemy. Our thoughts drift softly, mine into yours and yours  into mine, a spark that leaps from heart to bone, like starlight traced across the spine thought  worlds and dimensions, we must walk alone. The energy between us bends and sways, an unseen current pulls us near, yet fate has locked us  in its maze, and love survives i

By Rashad Booker This cube was hard to sustain but now I understand, Colors twisted as if they were feelings shifted this cube is a labyrinth of pain. In hands of shadow’s a cube dark as night a devilish  puzzle twisted tight, Colors clash and shake as truth breaks the darkness to expose the light,  that love of this kind was one sided and never truly right. Each turn a scar, a silent ache, a puzzle lost in the shadow’s wake, a restless game in midnight’s  gloom solving love’

By Rashad Booker Empty room, the clock ticks slow, echoes of words kept close that you don’t know, A hollow where your laughter flew, my foolish pride, a load vow kept me from loving only you. In shadow’s deep where whisper’s dwell I tread lost paths, a broken shell road that led to  destinations worse than hell, the weight from love’s karma is at play, I wish I could sell away  these bad decisions made. The path I chose, a heavy chain, with every sigh, I taste the pain in ev

By Rashad Booker They tell you… they tell you it’s out there. Up there. Beyond the clouds. Beyond the veil. Some golden city, streets of pearl, a celestial quiet. They tell you god… is on a throne. Distant. Judging. Watching all this mess. This beautiful,  brutal, broken mess. And the world? Man, the world is a grinder. It grinds you down. The news feed, a constant siren. The headlines, a scream stuck in your throat. Kids with empty eyes. Greed like an open wound. Politicians

By Joshua Two kings perched on rock A clash of wits, or not? An arena dyed in purple blood More from blue's side, a flood. Then come barbaric twins and spell, Dressed in helm and crimson cloth, And rage impossible to quell. Armoured prince gallops forth, A sapphire 11 adorns his horse. But perfect strategy fails, To prevent the blue king's loss As the red 13 in frightful detail, Born of unjust and vicious wealth, Promises an untimely death  For the brave azure corpse, Patheti

By Joshua patterned string and colourful thread dance weaving its knotting, winding, coils they shimmer like scales and call like the siren  to lure the soul for a taste of flesh into the fishermen’s net you go you clueless fish since you reasoned with your eyes  and deduced with your ears folly has overtaken you vision impaired you hermetic net shall choke you silence you, then humiliate you you forsook control now control will leave you  By Joshua

By Joshua a short collection Gratitude  Gratitude is like a serene, crystal clear, unceasing lake that flows and trickles and fills in the gaps of one’s heart. Humility  Oh the severe crushing and liberating pressure of watching someone greater and more admirable and wondrous and then, humility. It humiliates and chides in mocking fashion whilst taking, grasping, the heart in starry profundity, occupies it, and threatens to consume you and your reality itself.  Narcissus  Is