Welcome

Love isn't for me, poetry isn't for me;

life is a song of long boredom so desire sickens me.

You say I know not, what life is --

I say I dn't want me to prove to thee what and how life sustains me.

I survive-- I live, I vouch to destroy and rebuilt;

sometimes though it's the weariness that nobody can replace nor can they feel or want to- the need of tiredness and what it amounts to !

Still I breathe life like a hell bent soul,

who's determined to spread love and its universal lore.

Some curse and some eye me,

with mistrust and fascinating spree;

I say there's nothing I care,

not really until it goes on way to tear...

Love is life and weakness death,

alone I can surpass any way to flame.

Yet I'm repulsed with life at times,

then death is as welcome as a gift falling from the sky !