The Book of my life

Void of bliss is the atlas of my life,

Anecdote of my paraxysm, insinuated be knife.

Every page is the manifestation of malady,

Clandestine and secluded, scrutinized by nobody.

Untold story

Quiet they say "Shhh", let nobody hear you, 

I am breathing and zoetic, my mouth not to be sew.

I want to screech and squeal, can't keep it restricted. 

Wail until each and every part of my agonizing allegory is uttered.

Cracked Soul

Heart immersing in the pit if ooze, 

For now, I don't have anything left to lose. 

 Soul astray, vagabond and blotched, 

Crevice appeared where it had been notched.