In the Eyes

Red eyes twinkling, light
Calling to me; craving me
In him is me; dark

Ooze

The wells of creativity slow to a trickle. What once gushed forth now takes effort to squeeze; the resulting dribble is the pus from a festering blister on the face of humanity. As a great man once said: "The spirit is willing but the flesh is unable." In my case the spirit's willingness is not matched by its ability. Perhaps just waiting for some time; let the muse strike when he will - dressed in his robes of pure-white tinged with the blood of the martyrs. He does not come when you call. Or perhaps he is just out of the office at the moment.

Darkness...

Darkness has fallen. The campus is deserted; my heart shrouded in doubt. I walk through this place but lack the sense of belonging. The sense of love. Yet somewhere, deep inside, the welling begins.

Why

Black. Darkness. Nothing. Reality flipped, a piece of paper crushed by god's powerful hand.
-Why am I here?
I had lost all sens of myself. I was shrinking; an ice-cube left in the sun. Un-needed.
-Why won't you talk to me?! Why am I here?! Answer me! Why?!
Like a leaf tossed on angry seas I was in turmoil. No one was answering, did not one care? I must face this on my own, on one can help. I must find the answer. I have to find the answer to save myself. Without the answer I am nothing. Without the answer I will cease to exist.
-Why do I not know the question? Why is life like this?
When it comes time to make the hard decisions there is only desolation. You become a point, lost in a desert, sands shifting, winds battering you, threatening to destroy you, or worse, make you insane. These are the times when you need your wits but they are paralysed by fear.
-Why can I not think?
WHY