And sometimes fate makes bargains with the devil

She told him what she was wearing that day,
A blue hat with white polka dots“, she said.
He searched for her in the festival.
Blue hat, white dots“, he repeated over and over again.
No one that day wore blue, nor did he see any white dots anywhere – if you exclude the dots he saw when he looked up straight at the sun that was held in the blue sky.
Was her blue different from my blue?
Or did she know she was my world, and the sky was what she referred to as her hat?
He never knew the answers regarding the girl who had her hat stolen and was sitting just behind him.

Love Train

It was a short ride,
But she felt what she couldn’t feel
For a long time.
As she stepped off the train,
She heard the regular alert
Please don’t leave any luggage behind
But it was too late,
The doors closed behind her,
And she was left with no heart, no eyes, and half a brain.


Invisible heavy shackles wrapped around her wrists; cuffs.

Led by the Head of the Demons himself.

She might be detained, but the chains are loose, as if she has her freedom but her body refuses to follow anyone but him.

Any physical torture? No. Any physical anything? Barely – that’s the problem, she thought.

Ever heard of someone who was held captive and wanted to beg their captor to pull that chain so they’d be closer?

This is not a case of Stockholm syndrome, for she was the one who turned herself in to sacrifice her own soul.

He took her in, thinking she could entertain him for a while, but she was persistent, and he let her go.

“Why?”, she asked, “I don’t understand”.

And you don’t need to. All you need to do is leave. There is no place here for a good-for-nothing vessel who’s soul I have already devoured. Your role here is done.” he replied with no hesitation.

“At least a part of me resides within you, somewhere, lingering, when I physically could not.” she smiled and turned around.

Invisible cuffs, chains that extended vastly, and an unbreakable bond that she couldn’t sever, hoping one day he’d close this distance that she hated so much.

Hope? With a demon, eh? Ah, well I guess that’s my punishment for the sin I’ve committed, she thought,

I fed a demon. I fell in love with one so shamelessly. I still refuse to cut off the only thing that ties me to him. This is my atonement, living through this hell of a life without him, a million miles away. 


Abandonment looks beautiful. 



An old mansion still stands 

At the midst of a growing forest.

Camouflaged between the tall greenery.

A new roof of leaves and blossomed flowers.

Nourished by the souls that once called it home.

Dusty and shadowed from the inside.

Broken and unsafe are the floors and stairs.

Windows and the walls seem alike, smudged with memories.

New bushes covering the foot prints that once existed.

Unused, this land has become.


But it survives.

It survives to maintain the memories that were painted carefully by the souls that it derives life from.

Abandonment is glorious. 

Abandonment is the name of the mansion.

A man who found his escape.

He cherished his books.

He deified the words that displayed delicately

in the fragile papers.

Scenes traced between the sentences,

opening a door to his imagination.

He denied the existence of the page numbers,

for he feared reaching the last page.

‘Every story has an ending’ – a quote he detested.

Why can’t they just leave me in the middle, as I dance between the passion of the author’s interpretations of life before they found a conclusion?

So one day, they did;

You’ll find him laying on a creamy couch; asleep.

And today is his wish’s 25th anniversary.


The Fallen Angel of the Darkest Sins.

His wings held the darkest curses

Of the seven underworlds.

Six feet tall, 

Ten feet wide,

And seven thick layers

Of deep ebony pennons.

A feather falling from him

Into your bare hands

Would stain your soul 

Or manipulate your destiny,

That no matter how pure 

You try to be, this bad luck 

Will always interfere until

You accept the black mark 

His feather has made on you.

You might have already judged

That he is the devil himself,

But that, he is definitely not.

He is an angel, a fallen one too.

He bore the sins of the world 

Burdened himself 

With the shadows and

Deepest untold secrets

That shifted the light into coal.

His appearance is that of a Raven

In human form.

Dusky onyx coloring

His eyes, hair and clothes.

Maintaining these curses solely

For far too long

Is the job he volunteered to do.

For he loved a sinner,

A Demon, they had called her.

She bore the sins of lust and greed,

That led her to her deathbed.

To repent his sin for not falling

On Earth

Earlier than he did 

To save her soul,

He decided to fall 

After he lost his beloved

And hold the sins of all.

But he did not know the extent 

Of the darkness that lies 

In this universe.

He did not know it could be


He did not understand that 

Once a cup is full, 

It will overflow;

His feathers started to fall off

So he could endure 

The rest of the darkness.

So, fellow humans,

If you happen to encounter

A black feather

And the curse starts to run 

Through your vessels,

Please remember the burdens 

An angel had to handle until now

And carry it for him. 

Fight the dark temptations

But please carry it for him.