About a Carty

If only the literature of Oscar Wilde,
could scar my impatient eye,
with the kaleidoscope of your vivid imagination.
Oh so naive..
is the heart of the human mind,
a heart which prays for the suffering to end
but not for happiness,
that will shine away the shadows of doubt
in a glass heart.
So you fluoresce
and uncover the curtains,
a showcase of smiles.
Warmth, Joy, form the skeleton
Of these chemical imbalances,
which have metamorphosised into
my very core.

I pray that this show never ends.

Can't stop crying

How cursed our kind is
That it feels,
Murdered by one self,
Arrogance for penniless virtue
To love is to understand
But in this heart of mine do these misunderstandings
Gain life
For we all are slaves to these demons of life
Incivibility can only be broken with the weapon of physical beauty
Blessed to the allies of the demons
Burning into a kaleidoscope of ancient brushstrokes
Scar the evils of our mind
O build the skeleton of my scriptures
In such mechanics I seek my solace
That no human could ever provide