MELANCHOLY

A LINGERING FRAGRANCE OF MELANCHOLY,

AS THE FOGS LIFTS FROM MY MIND,

SHARDS OF HAPPINESS SEEPING THROUGH,

LIKE A RAINBOW AFTER A STORM,

MENACING MEMORIES OF SADNESS.

SUBCONSCIOUS WAR OF WORDS,

A SHIFTING FACE OF SADNESS,

AN EMERGENCE OF JOY TO MY WORLD.

FIONA

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ROTTING HOUSES

THE HOUSE IS OLD,

SO FULL OF MOULD

THE CREEPING PAINT,

HANGING OFF THE WALLS,

GHOSTS GIVE OUT A MISTY CALL,

TO REMIND US OF THE PAST THEY SAW,

SUNSHINE FOLLOWS THE GLITTER OF DUST,

SETTING ON FURNITURE ONCE SO LOVED,

AGE BRINGS BEAUTY, A REFINED DISREPAIR,

WALLS, FLOORS, WINDOWS SCREAMING FOR SOMEONE TO CARE.

FIONA

MERMAIDS

A MERMAID SAT UPON A ROCK,

THE WIND EXPLORING HER GOLDEN LOCKS,

A FISH TAIL OF SILVER SPARKLING IN THE SUN

HER BEAUTY A SIGHT THAT LURES AND STUNS.

SHE CALLS THE SAILORS TO COME NEAR,

WHISPERING PROMISES IN THEIR EAR.

WITH WORDS AND SONGS SHE CALLS DEATHS TIME,

THEY DIE WITH WONDER IN THEIR EYES,

IF YOU LISTEN TO THE TIDE,

YOU CAN THE HEAR THE SAILORS SOULESS CRIES.

FIONA

TIMES SQUARE

LIGHTS, MUSIC, SMELLS, SENSORY OVERLOAD,

THROWN INTO A WHIRLPOOL OF SCIENCE FICTION,

BY DAY DISGUISED AS A CITY STREET,

BY NIGHT A DEVILS DEN OF HALLUCINATIONS,

AS THE DARKNESS DESCENDS, THE MORPHING IS COMPLETE.

BRIGHT LIGHTS BLIND YOU, MUSIC BRAINWASHES,

LOCKED WITHIN THIS IRIDESCENT BUBBLE,

THE OUTSIDE WORLD IS SILENT, NON-EXISTENT,

A COLOURFUL ARRAY OF DISTRACTING BAUBLES,

PLAY NICELY MY PRETTY, AND WE WILL LET YOU OUT.

FIONA