Poetry written in French, the Romantic language that I am the most familiar with

A poem about many things. The darkness of one's present and past. Curiosity. Greed. Hunger.

And why you should tread carefully around demons.

When the world feels like an illusion or a dream. When a nightmare feels like reality. When nothing and everything pulse to a heartbeat that is not yours.

About having something taken from you. Or having something disappear from your life. Or even the feeling that you're missing something. Someone, or even, part of yourself.

Being invaded by inhuman menaces.

It is something many deal with these days. This poem is about illness and how it can be a threat to more than just the body. For it can plague the mind as well.

This one is more of a story than the others. I may do more like this.

Pertains to a mote of light that drifts on and off the planet, upon curious exploits.

When you crave an adventure through rocky canyons, pine forests and vibrant fields, all the way to the sea. Because within you there is a longing, a calling. 

A desire.

Light is matter and energy.

A particle and a wave.

But it is also a language.

Like any, it can be translated, changed, and transformed, depending on who is speaking.

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"Approaching the docks, we heard the violent smashing of wood and the clanging of metal being pounded through the cold veil of white mist that hung in the air by the coast. With a sudden gust, the pale haze cleared to reveal a beast from the brine like none I had seen before or after my time on Kioshell Island. It was roughly the same size as the fishing ship that had ferried me here and was in the process of tearing apart a vessel of similar proportions with a cold fury, pausing only to fling away huge bits of debris or adjust the monstrous maw that was its shell: the living, partially decomposed head of a sky serpent.."

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