At the End of the Day

as i
to the final minutes
of conscious thoughts
i realize
my greatest fear
is knowing i will
run out of life –
even if i live
a hundred years
or more –
before i get
to show you
just how deep
this love is


A Love Story

a bouquet of dead dreams
lies wake
in a sarcophagus made
from a hollowed out heart

worms crawl about
carving their time
on the empty walls
of a skull tomb

and the bony, frail hands
tremble past the tattooed face
to strangle the cuckoo

but time yields
to nothing
and no one

this too
shall morph
into ash and cinder
while its essence
into the ether

On Dying – Autumn’s Acquiescence to Winter

smothered lungs
decay of dead leaf corpses
autumn Earth
succumbing to change
fading colours
naked limbs
branching towards tomorrow
where evolution
of frost will continue
to sever the
remaining ties
between this season
and whatever is next


gnashing teeth bloodied
on a tapestry of innocent emotions
the essence of evil’s spawn oozing
in the cacophony of pins and needles
freezing the slipped-disc spinal column of
dreams turned nightmares
as screaming eyes bulge tears
to tear the chest cavity open
exposing the depths of hell where demons
feast on shreds of whatever it was
that lay hidden there in the first pace


i sit in silence
as Winter’s promise
patiently removes the blush
from Autumn’s cheeks
like Death taking the light
from a loved one’s eyes
and while gentle rain runs
quietly down the window
i realize
it’s me
fading in Winter’s grip
and it’s not raining
at all