Those gates never led to the truth, lost impressions within a space of inconsistencies, winters espoused summers, masks of dishonesty fell from gray skies like acid rain, a chaotic dilemma without an end.
Love never existed; it was merely a dream.
The fear, an everlasting visitor, that trespassed our fragile souls.
Death was the only truth that no one could escape.

poem by Michel ah

artwork by safira