Poem's, Stories, and Thoughts
I have suffered, and I have fallen, not a victim, not a martyr, just a man, raw and real, in every essence of my being.
Karma and luck, they play no part, in the gritty theater of my life. I am ancient, a relic of power, whole and intoxicatingly beautiful.
I am the wolf of the sea, a name, a universe, a force, unbroken by the world's chaos, standing tall in the storm.
sometimes I am the ocean, old as sin, heavy with the ache of it, every wave crashing like regret, every tide dragging memories I’d rather forget. the weight of years pulls at my ankles, and I let it. sometimes I am a wolf, snarling at the sky, teeth bared at an indifferent moon that won't even blink back. I run until my lungs burn, chasing shadows that dissolve the second I touch them. but most days I’m just a man. no gods to pray to, no stars to chart the way, just this sick joke of a cosmos dangling salvation like a carrot on a string. you laugh, you cry, and in the end, you die. and yet I keep moving. the ocean still heaves, the wolf still howls. and this man, this man keeps stumbling on broken knees toward something that might just be enough.
you walk through this life like it’s a rigged game, streets full of potholes and broken promises, but you keep moving. each day’s a gamble, a shot of whiskey in a dirty glass, and yeah, you’re down a few bucks, maybe down a few more dreams too, but there’s a crackling spark deep inside you, just enough to keep you from folding. they’ll laugh, the bastards with their shiny shoes and polished lies, they always do, but you’ve seen the bottom of the bottle, and you’ve stared down worse things than a sneer from a suit. you’ll get up, not with some grand, dramatic flourish, but with quiet, stubborn rage. because when it’s all over, you’ll still be here, scarred, tired, but still here. still standing, while the rest crumble under the weight of their bullshit smiles.
chaos hums beneath my skin like a beast that can’t be tamed, a pulse that won’t quit caged magic gnawing at the bars, waiting to tear out, waiting for the world to tilt, for the cracks to show.
and here I am, caught between neither in the light, nor deep enough in shadow. I stand on the edge, always waiting, where the whispers come, but I’m too tired to listen.
there’s a rhythm in the unraveling, like tides from a sea that doesn’t exist, pulling me down, deeper than any god’s bones, older than the stories they wrote. I’ve felt it in my gut, a pull to nowhere, to the places between heartbeats, where everything frays, and I’m barely holding on.
smoke curls, the only anchor I’ve got, keeping me here while time slips, and I forget it all but the past keeps its grip, fingers sharp, dragging me back to the ruins, to the choices I never made.
freedom? hell, it’s just a gacha game another thing they sell in shiny packages. we’re all bound by something, whether it’s blood or fate, or the scars under our skin. we wear our chains, whether we see them or not.
so I stand here, on the edge of everything, waiting for the world to crack, for the magic to break free or for the dark to swallow me whole. but I’m still breathing, still hoping for something more a real thing, maybe, in a world full of shadows.
A cosmic dance, beneath the night's expanse, A spirit free, on a celestial trance. Chasing dreams, with unwavering might, A journey of light, through the darkest night.
With every stride, a spark ignites, A heart aflame, with boundless lights. Gazing up, at the vast expanse, Questions linger, yet we advance.
Good vibes guide us, through the past, Surprises come, our bonds will last. Wandering through the night, we paint, Colors bright, a love so quaint.
In the dark, our spirits gleam, Returning with the morning's gleam. For days ahead, let's raise our hands, Embrace the luck, across all lands.
For nights like this, let's make a stand, Cherish moments, hand in hand. When hands meet, beneath the sky, Nothing can divide, our love so high.
Dancing under moonlight's streak, In your presence, my heart does speak. Around the world, our dance so slow, Eyes meet, and a passion grows.
In your light, my soul will glow, With you, my love, forevermore. You make me feel invincible, Your power lights my soul.
At ease with life, unshakable, With you, my love, I am whole. Within my heart, I plead and yearn, For your stories, good and bad.
As the sky begins to turn, Goodnight, my love, I'm glad.
you will flicker in these words, in the cracks of old pages, like a cigarette butt held too long, a dying ember— and then you'll go out.
even if I write them, even if I mail every letter, every page stained with sweat and cheap whiskey, you'll never get them. they’ll float out there, like lost dogs, like ghosts.
even if I see you again, in some bar, under some cheap neon light, I’ll never see you again. not the way I did when the world still tasted like hope and you still knew how to smile before the flicker went out.
She says she loves you, but it's the way you make her laugh, or the way you pick up the pieces when the world drops her flat. She loves the comfort, the steady hand, the way you hold the weight she never planned to carry.
But that’s not love, is it?
She doesn’t know your storms, your quiet nights when you can’t breathe right, or how your heart beats a little slower each time you bend to pick her up. You’re a mirror she polishes just enough to see her own reflection in, always clean, always clear.
You think it’s love, but it’s a transaction, a take without the give, a slow siphon where you wake up one morning emptier than the day before, and you wonder when that happened— if it was slow or sudden. But it doesn’t matter; she’s already gone.
She’s found a new hand, a new reflection, and you’re left with the quiet truth: She never loved you, just the way you made her feel.
I crawled out of the wreckage, bent but still standing, with the weight of her lies pressed heavy on my chest, like a jacket worn too long, fraying at the seams. She had me good—hooked, caught in the web of promises that crumbled like ash when the coffee went cold.
But then there she was, sitting by the window, the sunlight spilling over her, cutting through the steam rising from her cup, her eyes clear, alive—like she'd seen enough but hadn’t given in.
I stared, not caring who noticed. No ghosts tapping on my shoulder, no regrets whispering in my ear, just her, moving like a story I could never finish.
Her smile—smooth and strong, like the first sip of something you didn’t know you needed, burning clean through the past, leaving me open, honest, ready to shed the old skins.
I told her everything— the wreckage, the ruins, the scars left by hands that weren’t mine. And she listened, not with judgment, but with the kind of silence that makes you feel seen.
She was a blank page, untouched by the ink of my past, and for once, I saw something ahead that wasn’t just the same cup, cold and bitter, waiting to be emptied.
you played your games, you had your fun, but now the joke’s on me. i’m the guilty one, you say, like the world turned upside down while you were out screwing lies into the night.
you strayed, crushed what we had, but somehow, here I am, carrying your cross. you spin stories like a drunk too far gone to care, weaving them together with the scraps of a love you tore apart.
go on, twist the knife, build your fantasy. but lies are like cigarettes, they burn down, they fade out. and truth? it sticks in your teeth, no matter how hard you try to spit it out.
keep playing the martyr, wear your guilt like a crown, but in the end, you’ll choke on your own bullshit. because in this wreck, this disaster you created, it’s your own heart you’ve left behind to rot.
In the depths of my soul, an abyss lies, Vast and uncharted, where no light flies. A chasm so deep, it swallows the sun, A black hole devouring, leaving none.
It pulls me further into eternal night, A darkness profound, devoid of light. Each grasp for meaning, each desperate plea, Met with cold emptiness, unfeeling, free.
In this realm of sorrow, I am lost, A wanderer in shadows, tempest-tossed. Yet within this chaos, strength does reside, A paradox of power, where fears abide.
For in the heart of this abyssal space, Lies a force unyielding, a hidden grace. A god of chaos, with laughter and might, Born from forgotten realms, out of sight.