Sailing the mystic omnipresent seas,
on a craft made of dragonfly's wings.
Tacking across the magical breeze,
caused by songs that the sirens sing.

Weathered and worn by infinite tides,
holding lines made of eternal foible.
The warrior's blade like a rudder she rides,
in a sheath made of filigreed sable.

Virulent flow of futurity's pandemic,
vibrant waters fertile subtle surreal.
Ephemeral beings translucent endemic,
purveys omnipresent augur's appeal.

The starlit sky imbues waterfall's mist,  
myriad creatures seek eternity's mantra.
Vivid delineations of artistry's gist,
seeking virile omnipotent yantra.

Celestial heights where eagles traverse,
soaring and gliding we learn to fly.
Must life be terminal we say of terse,
whilst composing music to make angels sigh.

Papier-mâché bliss,
wrapped of wafer-thin
  promises midst kisses,
glued together with
    yesterday's adhesive,
fallen as separate pieces
   of wayward glances &
   capricious charades razing
     death do us part illusions
   in finale's flimsy tissue shrouds

There's a lunatic in my mirror.

May this scream turn to a melody
to force your fires outward.
May the explosions that crawl up your throat,
into your mouth, your eyes, your hands,
emerge through your fingertips to create,
not destroy.

It is how you speak. I know your language.
The power you wield can't break the skin, and your voice,
trapped under someone else's rocks.

Let yourself be color and light.
Think your thoughts, it's okay.
Scream until your soul can sing again,
then let your fingers dance through the melody,
not along the sharp edge of darkness.

We are here. You're not alone.
Speak, we will listen.

The whisper of an echo spoken
drums beneath my body broken
All above seen without dreams
held in thoughts burst forth it seems