Coffee Inspirations..

Descriptive Writing:

A python wraps its coils around my throat, causing me to gasp infrequently in quick intervals. Darkness falls like black veils, leaving my darkly chained thoughts to guide my loss of sight. The sounds of nostalgic tones and syllables cripple my sense of balance, equilibrium of auditory sensation shattered. My skin, like wooden barks, are scraped and cut devoid of any feelings. I faintly smell euphoria of grass; snow and cold whiskey …now dampened by the sickening fragrance of papers, technology and structured realism. What have I become, but a living corpse enchained by a reality of ignorance? Even death compared has many colors, more merciful…

The sacred fire that dwells within my spirit has been tainted. Dampened by the tears that fall behind closed eyelids. The glowing embers of what once was, bursts once more not in neutrality, but in white rage that seethes to destroy and destruct anything within its radius. I long for me. Where am I ?


His irksome behavior causes her muscles to spasm uncontrollably, not from enthusiasm or happiness, but due to the poisonous thoughts and rage that his insecurity and attention seeking whoredom creates. To set sights on his actions creates a wave of extreme sensations from pity to anger at infrequent intervals. The movement of his eyes moves like a broken pendulum, swinging side to side awkwardly and with unreasonable pauses. Why does he dance?


I caressed a flower from its resting place,

Marveled the essence of its mesmerizing rein,

To realize its thorns had pricked my eyes,

And petals seeped with tears like veins…

My coffin lay bare in the abyss of my being,

Am I living or simply existing?

My friends look tall, all bodies bend

Looking down on the corpse that was their friend ..


I found that darkness was my companion,

And daylight was my fear,

My sins are worn like silken cloth,

Covering innocence I hold so dear..

Thoughts that guide or can mislead,

Weave and stitch their impurities,

Making an altar of a life so frail,

Like a queen in a beehive surrounded by bees.

Solitude is forgiving, and loneliness my friend,

I am alone in this world, no solution can amend.

Hear thy whispers calling your fears and name,

I am nothing but a story, a memory ..a game..


I travelled upwards to the northern sky,

To find my mind upon an ivory tower,

And asked myself why did I try?

The answer was greed, prestige and power.

To suffer through at youth I said,

Till my soul was ripped, transformed and bled.

Till then I can create myself anew,

And live the life my childhood drew.


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