Are you a burnt little matchstick?
Struck against scraping sandpaper
Till you shine bright enough to be a star,
But the joy of being enough is robbed by the end, without going far.
Burnt, crippled, broken, and used,
Now showing no more potential nor promise,
You are thrown away by the world,
Tossed in a pile without a thought,
The light you brought, they forgot,
So they have simply left you to rot.
-Maya Desdemona
I suppose there was truth when Calpurnia said:
"The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes."
For as I stare out my window,
Glancing at heaven above and ground below,
I see white lilies mourn the loss of a kind soul from this world,
And the mighty heavens themselves stand in shame at their helplessness.
On this day
A great and kindly spirit was robbed from this Earth,
Far too early, sooner than one would anticipate,
And simply...
That.
That spirit has left this Earth, and left us mortals in its wake
As fleeting as the picture captured
With these gifts called memories.
-Desdemona
The moon calls the pristine sea-water,
Which in turn, reaches to the sky to answer.
The wind sings of this sultry exchange,
While the poor rocks,
Constantly thrashed by the falling tides,
Can only silently sigh.
– Maya Desdemona
Fret not, little child,
The monsters under your bed are long gone,
The next monsters you must fear
Lurk within the minds of men.
It enslaves their heart,
And lives off their soul,
Construing their figures beyond recognition.
Turning them into a shell of their former person.
Fret not, little child,
Such monsters are a part of life,
They live within us all and live all too well,
For why else would poets of old admire your innocence,
Your childlike wonder, lost to the seas of time?
– Maya Desdemona
Sweet Nocturne,
She needs not the light of day,
Nor the labours that do not pay,
For with her she has numerous nebulae,
That keep her at bay.
She is oft mistaken with coldness and death,
But in her darkness one finds a hearth,
A truly limitless rebirth,
Yet one that blazes with solace.
It needs no light
And does not burn too bright,
So as to hurt your eyes
And feed you with all-encompassing lies.
For sweet Nocturne is Wicked
Man’s veil,
Though the many layers of her beauty
Enclose many in pain,
Those lost souls always searching for their way
Will always find themselves in that dark haze.
– Maya Desdemona, Arsh.
Time truly flies
When it is nothing you are beside.
For oft it is something we are inside,
And naught we are presently outside.
Yet that peace found only on Death’s side
Is only found as one dies.
– Maya Desdemona
Does anyone else feel
That the Sky feels closer
The older we get?
My younger self would whine,
Seeing no stars in the then polluted sky.
Yet today I find,
Even constellations here shine.
The forever cloudy sky looks dim,
And often finds an inky undertone to lie in.
The Moon is perfectly halved,
Drowned in both Darkness and Light.
Today, I only happened
To see the sky by chance,
But even this chance viewing
Danced within my inner eye.
– Maya Desdemona
Luminousis 