Brilliant Stroke

Unstable like a mercury 
drop, when you hold 
a pen, hiding your 
icy thoughts. 

Like an archer, ready 
to abandon the bow, without 
shooting at the target. 

The bull's eye was a 
blue rose, sitting in the dark 
niche, afraid of light. 

In synesthesia, of 
nights assault, you fume 
and sizzle, when the dew 
drops hit you. 

You will not give the name 
of slayer, who killed you with a smile.

Reviews

[Eve]

I want to start out by saying this is a very odd and unique piece. Not in a bad way whatsoever, I just wanted to let you know you really have a different way of writing. Your works always feel like they're in an alternate world entirely. The second the readers take in that first stanza they're sucked into your world, a world that you have created whether you realize it or not. Each poem seems to be in a different world, a different time. When you write you bring something truly magnificent and well, genius to us. Your perspective on your surroundings and life in general are really a fascinating subject. You seem to have no problem showing these perspectives and you are very good at showing who you are as a person through your writing. Amazing, I look forward to more from you.