Depiction

There comes a certain “feel,” no matter where you happen to be, whenever his thoughts turn in your direction. It starts at the basic level of the flesh; like the cool breeze on a crisp autumn night; tantalizing and chilling all at once. Your blood pressure rises, heart rate increases, as he sends invisible waves

Reparation

Within her circle of stones She drifts back to that place Casting out shadows Demons handsome face Once lost in his darkness A labyrinth of despair Longing for an illusion Twin flames sweet embrace That lone wandering drifter Disguised as a sage Stealing souls Trying to make it pay She felt he was coming Hyena

Wasted youth

The parking lot was full Spilling over onto the boulevard Hearse at the ready To lead the procession 102 in the shade Suffocating humidity No breeze to speak of All those gathered Dressed in black Mourning the loss Young life wasted Blood and tears pouring Tragically taken Listening through the wall Razors trembling fingers As

He left her

He left her hanging A Monet with no River Seine He left her barren An open book with no pages He left her questioning A riddle with no answer He left her doubting The truth of her very existence He left her incomplete Energy work only half started He left her drowning Gasping for breath