Untiez. . .

Slit open this mind,

Lest that yesterday what things heart shut.



Diem libris.

. . .

Index me the age where all of my belongings,

list me all of those cutie-pies I swear,

if had the chance would’ve french my way into their eyes.

Dreams past and gone would have been,

Ambition was not mine to begin.

Love me a line of grey tones to azure skies.


my dream of mine is none.

I alone want my beloved light,

of the silliness of hers,

to be there for her:




®Artsydhude 97-19


Acknowledgement p.

Diem libris.

. . .


– – –

To whom does this life belongs to,

it was always credited to the ones that knew me not,

only to bore me into a life,

may whosoever be the one bare did say,

 “We brought you into this and had invested

in you,

but you will serve us willingly or unwilling.”

 Then that unconditional is never there,

only in my mind.

For them,

I owe my life,

For me;

I do not.



®Artsydhude 97-19


Diem libris.



. . .

The age of my grey hair

may be a mystery to you.

For me,

Its a statement that I have been a thinker

throughout which a life of a sinner,

one day I know I am to be respected in that

court of justice.

Facing a crime of my own intelligence.



® Artsydhude 97-19



. . Is it just when the ice does melt; whereas the fire fire do melt

my tempered attitude willingly deny the truth when your fact is an act

towards not to me.

But you will never admit your mistakes because you still make your egocentric self-defense as,

the one who put me here in this world. 

Here’s Megatron,

use it well let’s see,

so please don’t ever tell me,

I was any Soundwave whom never spoke.

I am not your Decepticon.



®Artsydhude 97-19

Why do all. . .

of my memory,

do keep. . .

taunting me.

loving me.

and yes reminds me.

Why do I live there?

Can’t I get out of its grip,

you of all things in mind.

You are such a storm crow,

that never lands but does fall on all of my thoughts.

Sure I can,

. . avoid,

. . ignore,

. . stop,

and make you go away.

Still like as a leaf,

you do make my life a seasoned worrier of my past.

Never ceases to amaze even all of those emotional maelstrom,

yes those passed.

yes I went through it all.

I prayed constantly and consistent that 

you won’t happen again.

Am I addicted to all that I haven’t done

would I imagine you here.

I want to make my own and now of what a

Thought can make me.

not the then,

than to keep like this.



®Artsydhude 97-19


What is;

responsibility for.

when you ca not give that.

concern for.

where you place that to who you think it needs.

One can say,

my anger would be the death of me.

Yet it is my own devil who taunts me of my,



and your flaws that kept me alive.

So you can see that fuel that burns.

I told myself then,

I will not hate you all my life.

Yet all of my woe and the sickness of anger resides.

Its an ember and of tinder

which never died.

Yet a flick of the wind,

a cool breeze to lull,

yes only elementals did provide.

All those were in favor,

kept this insanity line embedded,

 “They are still your parents.”


© O.a.M

®Artsydhude 97-19