The being in the Darkness
Is feared by those in the Light
Will I ever find Salvation?
Perhaps when I attain Redemption
For sins committed
A spirit so blasphemous
A mind battling insanity
There is, but, no rest for the Wicked.
The darkness is calling my name
It is luring me in
With memories so haunting
Stop. Just stop.
Facing the Fear, Hatred and Pain
As the Reaper
Embraces me with cold arms
Fear is not an option
For I shall overcome
All that has been committed
And greater than
All that has been given
Finally, Salvation has come for me.



There was a time of lost Love and of lost Innocence. A paradox is what you stood for. I gave you my hope and you consumed it. A hurricane unleashed inside of me, I had no one and nothing, but you. You turned your back and hurt me with windy words; hurt me with cruel actions. A lost Love I had found, a lost Innocence I had felt. It all comes back to me. It all comes back now, memories of you and I that could heal from within. I see your face and my heart sings with sin; my mind sings of innocence. Come back to me, lover; dearest of my heart; my love’s desire. You left me with a shattered heart and a broken smile. I will never bother you, I will never swear again, it is you I belong to. Dark lover of my heart, my dark angel. Your absence is a hole. A hole which I cannot reach out of, so dark it is my pain. My darkest desire, my darkest pain and my darkest love. Return at once, dear love of mine; for this verse is as simple as an, “I Miss You.”

~ Tristesse

Until We Meet


He had never spoken so freely and without inhibitions before, but felt, even now, that he could talk just about anything with her. Their laughter and playful banter trailed off, as they stared into each other’s eyes. She, her smile waning and he, his laughter fading. Sitting on the bed with their pillows in mid-air, he reached across instinctively and brushed aside a lock of her dark hair that had fallen across her forehead, whilst in the middle of a playful pillow-fight. Anderson inched closer towards Ruvista and she reached up with her right hand and caressed his face, tenderly.

He could see the questions forming in her eyes and knew they should talk further, but he had more pressing matters at hand – like the drooping off-shoulder dress that Ruvista was wearing, threatening to expose her left breast…

“Ruvista! Over here! Ruvista, it’s me, Anderson!” called out Anderson, as he spotted a familiar face which he had only seen on his computer and smartphone. Ruvista brushed away her long black hair with her left hand and smiled hugely in Anderson’s direction. She, too, had only seen that familiar face on her computer and smartphone.

“Anderson, is it you?” she asked, looking up at him with her curious, big dark eyes. They had joked, over the phone, about pinning on bright crimson-red roses onto their clothes when they met and Ruvista noticed the red rose on Anderson’s shirt collar. She had a rose, too, albeit a slightly droopy one, pinned to the top of a black off-shoulder dress that she had on.

Standing up at the height of his chest, she had to reach up on her high-heeled shoes just to wrap her arms around him. He smelled faintly of manly perfume and she fell in love with him at first sight, all over again. He hugged her tightly against his body and she felt a strange chill run up her spine when he released her from his welcoming hug. They were friends; wonderful friends, who had met online and throughout the course of their relationship, agreed to be exclusively dating each other, but on a merely friendly basis. Anderson was hesitant to enter a full-on love relationship, because of the distance – he in France and she in Australia. Ruvista had no such qualms, she pushed for a relationship nonetheless, as she loved him with all her heart, and they agreed to agree on a mutually-agreeable level. This was their eventual meeting.

“He looks gorgeous,” she thought to herself; as he bent down to help her with her bags. Strangely, the funny sensation that ran up her back, remained, but she brushed it off as another one of her usual quirks.

People streamed by them and the daily hustle and bustle of the airport went on as it usually did. Time, nor tide, stopped for them. Life simply continued on, but for Anderson and Ruvista, it was a brand new dawn to their blooming relationship. Anderson had promised to bring her to a lovely restaurant where they would have chilli crabs and prawns; her ultimate favourite food, but made in the French style, in France.

Over the delightful meal, they shared long, loving looks, tender caresses and flirty touches. Good food, good company and in general, a good experience it was. Full and sated, they held hands as they left the airport and walked over to Anderson’s car that was waiting for them, at the carpark.

Opening the door to the hotel room, Ruvista fell forward in giggles as Anderson joked about in his usual funny banter that they exchanged.

“Do you think there are seven virtues corresponding to the seven deadly sins?” she queried, peering up at him from beneath her dark eyelashes. Her dusky skin gleamed in the soft warm lighting of the room and Anderson dropped their bags onto the carpeted floor and reached forward to hold and tickle her sides.

“Yes, there should be, if I am not mistaken. Devotion could be the one opposite wrath. What does the Learned One think of that?” he playfully pushed her onto the bed and they fell in a heap, she giggling and he tickling her, trying not to injure himself from the fall. The bed felt downy soft and springy to the feel. Ruvista’s supple body was enveloped by the softness of the bed and she grabbed a pillow, in desperation, trying futilely to ward off any more tickles from Anderson. Gaining momentum, she brought the soft pillow down on him and raised and let it fall repeatedly against his shoulders, as she pondered about what he had said.

“Devotion? That sounds like a plausible suggestion. I should take note of that,” she said, starting to perspire, as droplets of sweat formed around her mouth, above her upper lip. “Damn, it’s hot in here,” she exclaimed, waving the pillow across her face; as she continued bashing him up with it. Anderson somehow managed to get up from the bed and adjusted the settings on the control of the air-conditioning.

“It’s better now,” she called out, as she dropped deadweight against the bed and started drawing patterns in the air in front of her. Anderson smiled tenderly. He had always known she was a strange, quirky one. It was one of the traits that drew him to her. Her dark hair was billowed out on the sheets beneath her, some forming themselves into locks on her dark, dusky shoulders. He bent down to kiss her on the shoulders, as he moved away the hair that was obscuring her tantalizing neck. He trailed soft kisses as she continued drawing strokes in the air in front of her, moving upwards and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She kissed him back hard and suddenly got up and started bashing him with her pillow. Not to be outdone, he grabbed a pillow of his own and pelted her with soft beatings. They bickered and laughed in between the beatings.

He had never spoken so freely and without inhibitions before, but felt, even now, that he could talk just about anything with her. Their laughter and playful banter trailed off, as they stared into each other’s eyes. She, her smile waning and he, his laughter fading. Sitting on the bed with their pillows in mid-air, he reached across instinctively and brushed aside a lock of her dark hair that had fallen across her forehead, whilst in the middle of a playful pillow-fight. Anderson inched closer towards Ruvista and she reached up with her right hand and caressed his face, tenderly.

He could see the questions forming in her eyes and knew they should talk further, but he had more pressing matters at hand – like the drooping off-shoulder dress that Ruvista was wearing, threatening to expose her left breast…

Slowly, he unpinned the rose that adorned their clothes and placed them on the side table before reaching out with his hands and pulling her off-shoulder dress down an inch, lower down her left breast. He kissed her and licked her dusky skin as she sighed and fell onto the sheets, with delightful expectation.

He caught her nipple between his teeth and closed his mouth around it, eagerly sucking, while he took hold of her hands and raised them up by her sides and held her firm. Anderson released one of her hands so that he could reach down to her legs and touch her there and to his relief, she clutched at his shoulder with her free hand, rather than push him away.

He touched her centre and she moaned and arched her back against him. Continuing his caresses there, he released her nipple and straightened his body to take her mouth again. This time she kissed him back with all the pent-up passion she had shown him, her tongue meeting his and battling with it for a short while before giving that up to suck on it instead, when he used his finger to enter her wet warmth as his thumb circled her nub of excitement.

Concentrating on what he was doing, Anderson was caught utterly off-guard when she moved her own hand between them to wrap it around his erection. Breaking their deep kiss, he threw his head back as her fingers tentatively and shyly moved on him. Her touch was soft and flirty and he realized that she was not sure of what she was doing and he closed his free hand around hers, urging her to use a tighter hold and then regretted it as his manhood jerked in her hands.

Anderson nearly found release there and then and soon enough, would, if she continued at what she was doing. To make sure that that did not happen, he dragged her hand away and caught her by the back of her legs, spreading her supple thighs.

He heard her moan and groan as he eased her down onto his erection. Anderson imprisoned the last of her moan with his mouth, kissing her as he began to thrust in and out of her at a tantalizing angle. He withdrew and surged back in with force as she struggled to let out another moan.

Ruvista’s kisses were hot and wet, her dark legs wrapped around him, crossed at the ankles, fingers knotted in his dark hair, tugging and pulling almost painfully with demand, as she sought the release she knew waited just above the horizon for her.

Anderson grew excited as hell and made him drive harder and faster into and out of her. Even so, he did not think that that either of them was ready for the rush of emotions that swelled and roared against them. It hit hard and fast, exploding across them like thunder and so, he dug his fingers into her hips and broke their kiss on a shout of release that drowned out Ruvista’s scream.

He felt weak as a kitten, as though she were his succubus, sucking the energy out of his body and being. He was trembling. She had moaned, gasped and cried out like a wild animal, as he pleasured her. Her cries simply made him want to pleasure her all the more, wanting to draw out more cries from her sweet mouth.

His hips continued moving between hers and his manhood rubbed against her, without entering, and Ruvista was moaning and groaning in response. He smiled.

Ruvista gained control and pushed him off of her and switched positions. She shifted to her knees and began to explore his chest with the tips of her fingers, lips and tongue. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as told her gently that doing this had little to no effect on men and that she should focus her attention lower, if she wanted to please him.

“Just shut up and let me play,” she whispered, biting his neck. When she closed her lips over his left nipple and began to tease it with her tongue, he was surprised to feel a thrill of sheer excitement shoot up his body, within him.

She began planting hot kisses to his hot flesh. The woman did not have the slightest clue as to what she was doing and that did not matter to him the slightest bit. Just watching her lips on his body was do damned erotic he was struggling not to let out his release right then and there, in her mouth.

When Ruvista took him into her mouth finally, he could take no more. Anderson, with one hand, held her head and grabbed her upper arm with the other to make her upright and kissed her harshly.

“I love you,” he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes.

She smiled and looked down at him. She slid her arms around his broad shoulders and kissed him passionately. “I love you, too, Anderson,” she said in response, smiling shyly at him, still not meeting his eyes.

He released her arm and reached between her legs and caressed her again, eager to bring her to another climax. They kissed fiercely. She smacked his lips with a kiss and raised herself to straddle him. He helped her raise herself onto his erection and clasped her hips in raising and lowering herself, pleasing them both equally. Her ample breasts were positioned in front of his face and he could do nothing but catch one between his lips, covering the other with one hand to touch her pleasingly, as she rode him, crying out loud.

Ruvista’s cry of sin as she found her ultimate release caught Anderson by a little surprise, but the way her thighs, legs and muscles spasmed and tightened around his manhood, had him following her in pursuit, his own shout coming before hers had echoed out.

Spent and sated, not with food this time round, he looked at her and asked, “What about a shower?” She punched him in the arm and said, “I am shagged. I want to rest a while.” Together, they laid side by side, spooning each other, as his hand stroked her breasts and she, twirling her toes playfully around his, as they drifted off into a much deserved sleep…

Across the Distance


Your words from across the distance
Close my eyes as they make me warm
Ethereal, ghostly, invisible
Here I am in my clothes
Trying my best to remain prim and proper.

Electronic kisses, ethereal hugs
Your flesh against mine
Wanton and cheeky they make me
Coming undone, clothes undone
Thank the heavens I am in my room.

Your kisses to my forehead
While you slide your hand for seconds
Filling me with need so unbearable
That I yearn for that bad touch
Sated and full you render me.

Clothes undone, unbridled need
Leggings, tank top and bra off
Shaking, I read your words
Many years have gone by
Since the bad touch.

Over feverish skin my hands feather
Hands trembling as I bite my lips
Heated and moist things become
I shiver, moan and turn restlessly
Whispering your name as it leaves me to shudder.

Society and Ignorance


Society is complex. It is everything everything a society should strive not to be – it is patriarchal and misogynistic in nature.

Beings who “feel” the most; the ones who think; the ones who are sensitive; the ones who cry; the ones who feel; the ones who laugh out loud; we are all under siege by a society that never fails to taunt, shun and discriminate us. It may not be about race or skin colour anymore in certain parts of the world, but, our very essence of being a “human” is being waged a war against.

We require countless declaration forms for the mentally ill or physically handicapped. Just because they tick all the “all okay” boxes, does not make them superior to us. They may be the majority, but, we all know that there are so many life-changers in society who have contributed much and played significant roles, despite their mental challenges or handicaps. I cannot, for the life of me, think of anyone at the moment, but, we all know, at some point of our lives, of someone so magnificent whom we cannot do anything, but, admire, awestruck, wondering just how they managed to succeed.

Depression is a killer, if life does not kill you first. Some are diagnosed with so-called high-functioningdisorders, in a category that some of us may fall under. They look, they stare, they wonder what it is like. Some start taking out their religious objects and start praying in fear of being “infected” by our negativity. I do not dwell in negativity. It is just a frame of mind. All these “look at the bright side” stories are just getting on my nerves. They treat us as though what we have is wrong. The worst occasions are when they start correcting us and say things like, “You have to change your character first, to make it in life.

My character?! Perhaps it is you, ignoramus, who needs to be put under therapy for your blatant ignorance! Now, now, no one is getting all defensive. I am merely stating a fact here. What has my character possibly have to do anything with whatever that is making me feel all melancholic, hopeless and in despair, most of the time?

In their defense, rationally speaking, I would say that they have mistaken “character” with “mind-set“. There is absolutely nothing wrong with my character. You are hitting under the belt by saying that I have a shitty personality? Who gave you that right?!

Society, at large, is filled with such ignoramuses. Live and let live. But, the next being from the masses, to open their mouth and spew such words like “character” or “personality” is going to get a mouthful from me. That is for sure. It is not our character, it is something that we cannot cure… but over time, learn how to recognise possible recurring symptoms and prevent the severity of the waves of sadness and melancholy.

Character, they say… *pfft*.