Nothing much and nothing less,
delights of spirit and sins of the flesh.
It's been a while since I used this alchemy
even if I know that it doesn't work on me.

I am blessed by Janus,
When I'm happy my laughter echoes in the dead of night.
I am cursed by Janus,
When I'm sad my screams and wounds chase away the sunlight.

I am the doctor,

(this was written by my daughter,if you want to make comments she'll read them,be harsh >_<)
J
oHaNnA

Take a look at yourself,
tarnised beauty and wealth.
You're just withering

Through the flames she sees the wonders,
lit the world just like another cigarette.
an army of her own,follows no orders
Intelligence provided by all the times she wept.

Skin painted in milk,

Rusty devotion,
the scent of ash
along with screams trapped in the smoke
creeps inside from the broken glass.

Locked in her chamber, Sophia weeps

Her home was burnt down
reduced to nothing but dust
ashes to ashes
as the soldiers would march.

Spinning the wheel,
it took a sad turn.
A maissa's fait...

to burn.

Personal misfortune is my fuel,
I burn it in order produce.
describe in perfect words a world cruel,
a cabaret of emotions to use or abuse.

Say,romance is gone

A tea party with cups dripping red,
hands pale on the wooden table
delicacies are placed but all seem to be already fed
or to feed themselves are no longer able.

Majestic,how really it is..
like a withered flower disposable,so easily forgotten.
when it is no longer in position to please.

Well,what else could I expect?Fleshy flowers aren't we all?

five.

I need a five on that hated paper.

five fingers.

God help me.

Five,only five
no more neither less.

Five...5

I need 5.

5 and I'm saved
5 and I'll live
5 and I'm free

I lost.

I tried.

But in the end my lance broke into a thousand pieces
scattered in the wind just like a rejected lover's kisses.

Do you know....

How much it hurts when I fail

In the theatre of tragedy,I took a chance today
nails in my ballet shoes,my bleeding feet painting red the grey stage
as I danced around wearing the mask of sickness and decay

This might be the last of my dark days,
yet,awkwardly,I woke up with no fear.
I let my little rose drip in my embrace,
as she is the only one I can ever dear.

I try to smile,but my lips refuse to stretch
my face is like a marionette's.
butchershops and cabarets

It's all the same in the end.

Wrinkles,I got older only in two weeks

Truly,such a happy dagger
the one of sadness...
pierced my breast and from that wound
coal black ink came out.

Man is a wicked creature,
cruelty has a form so simple.