mortals on borrowed time

the eternal master

Mortals, Bound
The master
who holds the keys
remains Change—
a universal existence
turned cosmic law.
Nothing is fated
to stay the same.

mortals on borrowed time

Angels reside

among clouds,

watching mortals

scurry about,

living

on borrowed time.

Betrayal lingers

love beyond realms

I walk not alone.
Guards shield the unknown.
They converse in dreams,
through visions
of a world coexisting
in a realm beyond.

I walk not alone.
I am guarded
by beings who’ve walked this realm
and who walk the realm beyond.
They refuse harm
being brought upon me,
their offspring,
and my offspring,
for blood communicates
beyond realms.

I walk not alone,
for I know of love
that transcends realms.

No Reprieve

Heavy Heart

Bears all,
with no reprieve.

What it carries
holds jagged edges,
wounds revealed
with each attempt to carry.

Each moment
begets more wounds.

Congested mind,
thoughts weigh more
and more.

Formless though they may be,
they contain mass—
a ton to hold.

Body running empty,
fumes let loose
from attempts to run.

All signals blurring red,
but never addressed.

A prayer for my little star

A solemn prayer nests
within my heart.
It grows as you grow,
my little star.

May you shine brightly.
May your light never dim.
May the girl I first held,
the one whose cries
my voice once calmed,
never lose her splendour.

May our bond never be severed,
for in you rests a piece of me.
You hold the hopes
I can never speak aloud,
the hopes that remain
in the confines of my heart,
along with a prayer
to watch you grow—
a grace I am afforded.

May my eyes shut for eternity
having witnessed you
fully realise your true potential.

growing around the break

Among broken monsters

We reside

Ones whose cores

Lay broken beneath tissue

Growing around broken pieces

Where humanity once rested.

Among broken monsters

We walk

Teetering between friend and foe

One hostile encounter away

From mutually assured destruction

For even monsters who hunt

Can receive fatal wounds

From prey refusing

To answer deaths call.

Among broken monsters

We share intimate spaces

Creating bonded ties

Prone to breaking

At a moments notice

We live with shape shifters

Flip floppers

Masked individuals

Who’ve grown used

To the illusions they broadcast

That mirrors are hated cursed and despised.

cratered steps

Dark clouds linger,

bloodshot eyes,

seeking permanence.

Tears falling—

an everyday occurrence,

seemingly now.

Dark clouds follow

every step taken,

feet leaving craters

from the load you carry,

whose weight

has become so burdensome

that your heart strains.

What we carry forward

We become
collectors,
archiving moments.

Experiences shared
become memories
to be recalled.
They become stories told.

Some become
tales of caution;
others become
badges we collect
of days long passed,
of youth long spent.

We collect moments
to heal from.
Some become repositories
where healing is sought,
for they display
all which we’ve overcome.

We filter experiences,
at times, never the lessons,
for experience holds credentials
of being the best teacher.

What the body carries.

This body
is a library
of moments lived,
of time’s passage,
like tree rings.

It collects seasons.
It holds scars
from moments
where life was easy to carry,
of childhood shenanigans
which seem a lifetime ago.