Give me a minute

of time that’s minute

and forgive the cheek where rests a tear

For a hole in my heart did tear

Slowly time will heal the wound

As time is no longer wound

A Nightmare

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Antiquated truths in the moon light

We have faith for griefs presented—

Apathetic praise of graves by night

Loss gave as intended.

Ah! what is now a truth by night

To those whose virtues trap

Astray without them causes fright

Run towards a fated hap?

Those terrible truths—that terrible truth,

Split one from no one whose praising,

They scorned us as an ugly group

We precious villains racing.

Went over that night, fro’ calm and bright,

So steady so near—

Went list there be less cryptic fights

From liar’s dark-jeers?

A Dream


In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed—

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day

To him whose eyes are cast

On things around him with a ray

Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream—that holy dream,

While all the world were chiding,

Hath cheered me as a lovely beam

A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night,

So trembled from afar—

What could there be more purely bright

In Truth’s day-star?


woman in white long sleeve shirt
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Oh, burdened are the excess of humanities woes

from corner to corner,

foolish cries are caught

their expectations inject most fervently

though otherwise argued facts not prudent to the cause

withheld is my discretion,

away from all the world

never again to believe a word from lying lips that preach too much

from now until eternity,

weary are actions of this cautious mind

I am the fool


Edward J. Goodman. Too Curious. London; Guildford: Bentley & Son, 1888 — Source.

Have I lost myself?

A notable question I’m sure for amelioration is inconceivable

Too curious is a mind that covets without contrition

Perhaps too many desideration’s?

They are more like unshakable ghosts eager to haunt

To save me is to kill me, as fate just contradicts archaic modes

Integrity is in the guise of swift imagination’s making fools for fun

Where am I?

Dissipated behind the curtain, too aware of the eyes of death which is at length

I have lost myself

Continue reading “TOO CURIOUS”


What the hell is going on?

Nothing makes sense anymore

Chaos imitates superiority disguised as normality

Fuck normal

The very meaning of the word is alien

Everything touched turns to shit

Nothing or no one is immune to the ridiculousness of absurdity known as life

Toxicity is rampant, therefore,

dejectedly in the midst of one such as I

The level of carnage is incomprehensible


There is no happy ending,

much deserved

The shit show of life is inherited for generations thanks to our predecessors

To no end will the tragic consequences be paid in full

For fate has already dealt its hand

Like it or not,

there is no escape for the succession

Failure is predestined

I’m sorry