the ugly writers

gunpowder in an hourglass

Because my hourglass seemed full, I had not given thought, To cherish every grain within, a lesson just now taught. Like gunpowder, instead of sand, our time in little mounds A careless spark from destiny, releasing death’s dark hounds.
the ugly writers

Forgotten

in that tiny corner of earth long forgotten by its inhabitants now, scattered in cities across the world
the ugly writers

Blindfolded love

I believe that when people used to close their eyes And see who they really are within them That was the time when they started to shine. And begins to love... the purest love of loving themselves.