You are a cool cemetery.
You have the sinner’s grave
You have the saint’s earth
colliding
You have all the beds
narrow as a knife;
as if a rally of tombstones to defend death.
But you can’t really postpone
the inauguration of my burial,
can you?

From the poem – Few Words to Cemetery

Poetry contains few words but tells much. Its beauty is that by being condensed it is rich in meaning and open to various interpretations. Unlike prose, there is no boundary to poetry. There is nothing concrete or black and white. Poetry is mutable; it is transformative. Poetry is the alchemy of hearts. And what cannot be said in prose can sometimes be only said through poetry.

Transcendence is before you should you choose to take a swim.

Into your deep blue you dive and all that is within.

Referred to as my subconscious so you may understand me clear.

But there’s nothing very simple about the message I’m sending here.

The colour of your blood, the liquid through your veins,

is really just a pathway to the place that feels your pains.

The heart is an ocean but within it there’s a sun, submerged beneath the ocean, and all that is but one.

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