Rust.

All we can do is dream,
keep chasing after silver streams—
dollar signs flash as we speed by.
The only certainty is that we die.

Distorted reality blurs meaning,
tragedies occur without reason.
Hope waivers, careening,
The truth is rarely appeasing.

Tempered glass shatters;
the shards on the floor look like diamonds.
Survival is all that matters,
when my head hides wailing sirens.

One day, my sun refused to rise,
broken down from shining over lies.
Nightfall never left my side,
no visibility in a charcoal sky.

Though I braved storms
earthquakes, and landslides,
suddenly the feather wind
even bruised my pride.

What do you tell two tired feet,
or hands wrinkled from wringing?
Not even paradise itself could
stop my shuttered eyes from stinging.

When faith runs out,
carrying on seems pointless.
Sometimes success even
prefers avoidance.

That is when I start to sink.
I melt like wax on the parquet flooring.
Scrutinize every crack then
accost myself for ignoring it.

I become a magnet for suffering,
repelled by my own self-detriment.
Copper, as I blush then rust.
Seizing up, I crumble to dust.

Division.

All you knew were fairy tales,
you were no stranger to luxury.
You grew up in a good neighbourhood,
came from a respectable family.

Here I was, this broken doll,
from the wrong side of the tracks.
Spent my childhood in bars,
drinking cheap whiskey and Jack.

It was clear as day for all to see,
that we were not equally yoked.
Despite our many differences,
we still laughed at the same jokes.

You took a chance on me,
and ventured outside of your comfort zone.
I came from rags, you made me feel rich.
Our love was my million dollar home.

Eventually, we ran out of time,
just like they said we would.
All things come to an end,
especially when they are good.

I wiped a single tear away,
snuffed out our candle's flame.
Now, it's been several years,
but somehow my lips still taste your name.

Bulletproof.

Incorrigible landscape,
that cannot be recreated.
There is no copy and paste here.
Ticking underneath my ribcage,
a sleeping dragon awakens.
Beating to the rhythm of birdsongs,
one misstep could collapse a civilization.
A glance mistaken capable
of crashing stock markets.
Your guess as good as mine
what could make it plummet.
Sending shockwaves through nations,
like a sonic boom.
Tremors that create rifts in the Earth,
like natural disasters.
Corrugated cardboard heart of mine,
often recycled,
occasionally left behind.
One wrong move and limbs go flying,
splattering the air,
like the paint of possessed artists.
A twisted scientist,
he is a tortured genius.
His every project,
government green-lit.
Imagine such power,
the kind to be marvelled.
With enough force to
crumble mountains;
one snap of his fingers
and the world is reduced to shrapnel.
Dust clouds the sky reducing vision.
There is no clarity here,
it vanished like a magician.
Sometimes he is the court jester,
others, the king.
One misinterpretation is all that is needed
to result in widespread suffering.
So, be quiet and still.
Proceed with caution,
treading on egg shells,
so he remains sleeping.
While he is dreaming,
there will be peace in the district;
no chaos in these streets,
tonight.