i bleed the sunset across the darkening skies my tears the rains soothing the dusty plains i am a force of nature in all of her malicious intent a phantasm of spectacular deceit i am a vengeful godling creating tales of woe with this ink stained fist i am an infinity of sublime rapturous divinities […]
a window washer on the side of a skyscraper working for spare change as the occupant glare out at him as the squeegee squeaks he is a trapeze artist so convincing scared to death trembles at the edge smiling with false bravado as his knees shake in need of a puzzle solver as i fall […]
and behold the icy grasp of death burrowing further down into the soul of art of word of expression hear the death rattle of purity in every faded verse as insincerity lifts it’s bloody muzzle from the corpse of poetic nuance yet on the stillborn hands of shaky wordsmiths lay claim to title of bard […]
in the beginning there was darkness from the darkness came chaos from the chaos came gaia rivers oceans seas sprang forth she came to me, nurturing as mother gaia, her hands scarred from battles fought, her eyes pure, her lips sweet as honey, her touch soft as silk then came eros the need to copulate […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 