Mi amado, what would i do if i had
no museum of auburn phantasy?
Is poesy a remedy or a reminisce
for aftermath of ruins?
Why do some scars resemble the pyramids
of departed souls?
What if i lament over a grief and later
it becomes a song of jungle?
Where do birds chirp by sunsets to
Where does unsaid goodbye linger on?
Why do once ink get bruises and poetry
shivers into the moribund of blues?
Pain O pain my dear poet, could you write
wisteria of love in the orange sky?
Of magic, alongside the boulevard
i wander off in my nightmares
came across the threshold of nocturnal vows
When shall i float into the mist of hazel green?
When will i tread upon the velvet serene?