Aesthene

The gateway, A door, Opened not in haste but in invitation, Swings wide at the adventurer, Will he enter? Will he stay but for a moment to peruse the scrolls? Hangs in the gallery a plethora of paint in binary, Codes and sigils, Ideas, Once intangible, Abstract, Became alive with color and were written in art, Then translated in the arcane, Coded, Encrypted, Not to keep out the wary, But to invite curiosity, To nurture adventure, Will he stay but for a moment to peruse the scrolls?

Disturbed Circles The arrogance disturbs my circles, circles that make up my circus, hoops that make my world, rings that encircle my power, power that I don't possess, lives in those circles, power of ego, power of mind, power of wishes never granted, power of dreams, all my own, and they all want the circles, I can hear them clamoring outside my chamber, I know well what lies beyond my circles, I made the circles my sanctuary, arrogance stomps my castles, and moves my hoops, carefully organized, mathematically perfect, moved by carelessness, moved by heartlessness, disheveled by ignorance, arrogance moves my world. a

Unctuous How madness from beyond the gates of shadow taunt me. You torture without irons or implements, Your brands scar from inside, An emotional Exeter's Daughter, A madness from which there is no escape. The madness caused by a male siren's song. Your angelic smile draws me closer, Your feigned patience stays and waits, But silently inside your plot is to consume, To steal emotion you can no longer feel. Not even I, in my darkest hour, Have sought to prey on that which is sacred, To trivialize that which should be a gift, Made insignificant in your eyes, Disposable, Laughable, Oh, you stay, Oh, how your patience waits, U

Don't say goodbye just yet I'm content to hear you breathe. a simple common task have we in breathing something we both must do a simple common thread the last one we can share held onto for dear life until that last moment when the sting of finality is met Emotions, a maelstrom in my mind bashing tattered shores of sanity the maelstrom claims everything And you want more words of yours, the source of the maelstrom, words cyclical, repeating, enforcing ideas. The storm picks up again. The wind forcing ideas that don't match words, actions that don't match character each of these matched in your breathing, in

Broken The image of a mirror, cracked and shattered the image in the mirror unclear without form. what was beyond the mirror reflection of hope reflection of dreams reflections of axioms just a reflections now an illusion shattered reflects nothing but shards of itself an illusion reflected upon itself eternally in pieces. © Aesthene 2006