You live you die and death not ends it.

I will die Before My Time. Because I feel the shadow's Depth. So much I wanted to accomplish. before I reached my Death.

I am troubled, immeasurably by your eyes. I am struck by the feather of your soft reply. The sound of glass speaks quick, disdain and conceals what your eyes fight to explain.

If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.

Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through any one that suits you.

The world we suggest is a new wild west. A sensuous evil world. Strange and haunting, the path of the sun.