Gothic, Poetry, spirituality, Writing


Life is an adept,

At taking,

And if it hasn’t yet,

It will surely remind you,

Which is why I capture, through ink,

That which matters most,

Plunged into flesh; my very being,

A forever manifestation,

Of everything life has given,

And now, forbidden – by me,

To take back,

Till I am no longer a canvas,

And only when death has signed my Opus,

As complete,




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