A creative rush for my lost mojo

I am once again having another writer’s block. I really need to get my ‘mojo’ back stat.

Hoping to find my forgotten mojo, I have created this sort-of canvas of self expression. This is an effort of visualizing the phenomena of love and the intense longing of another soul. Butterflies have always been divinely delicate creatures to me. They are imprints of burning romance and romance lost.

As much as I would like to interpret my my so-called artwork, it’s no more or less than a sudden urge and my undeclared love for the shade of pink. It’s my artistic heave looking for my muse.

Rose

I stare blankly at the blackened sky
Holding the black rose and its needles of pain
My hand bleeds
My heart dies
My souls weeps for you’re not by my side

The blanket of sleep obscures my tired soul
Freeing me from the lesions you’ve made
Drifting me into the world of the unknown
My hand turns ice
My heart burns dry
My soul fleets from its home
Still i hold the black rose and its broken thorns…

Free

Free me from this agony
Burn me to ashes
Release me from this misery
Let my soul run wild
Let my soul break free
Dont imprison me with thoughts of you
Dont take away my sanity
Heaven grant me oblivion
Of the rose that touch my heart
Let the fire consume me
And my ashes break free
And leave the rose to where he should be

The Torment of Love

The bright orange fades into black
Still I lie on my bed of nails
Drowning myself with thoughtless words
Insipid to what the world still has to offer
I fall into the depths of melancholy
An abyss of anguish and remorse
The black ceiling of lonliness consumes me
Aching to feel your soul

The bright orange faded to black
Still I lie on my bed of nails
The silence gores my hopeful heart
The ashes of oblivion plays in my troubled mind
I fall, fall in the depths of melancholy
An abyss of maddened streets and long-gone hopes
I burn with tears of angst and pain
Embracing the thorny black rose that you are…

Us Ghost (oct. 27, 2004)

Light flickers in blank eyes
Mourning for hope
Weeping for compassion
Obscurity covers the maddened streets
Sanity is but for the wealthy
Ours is the maddness of the world

There is so much life in those stark grey eyes
lined with pain and strife
So much life, so deprived
Running with hands stretched out
Can’t anybody see us
We are falling,
We are crying in the arms of pain
Can’t anybody hear us

Living among ruins
Caught up between life and death
Fragmented body of reality
Lesions of the past and the new
Souls caught up in an abyss
An existence of tyranny and questions

There is so much life in those stark grey eyes
Lined with pain and strife
So much life, yet so deprived
We are standing up
We are wiping our tears dry
We run for our salvation
Our wounds are healing
Our existence claims its sanity
Our life is ours to own
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my dear friends take time to help those in need and those in pain… life is given more meaning when we start helping…