We are happy to welcome a young artist into our poetry corner, enjoy 😉
Prophecy
When the Sun will release it`s final breath
And when the greed of men will awaken the dead
Land will favour the moon , in dept
The moon will open the tombs 
Thus will begin the dance of death
And stars will weep and weep
Not a drop of life will land on earth
And when men and women will begin to die
The skies will open, releasing all the grief of the stars
Grief will flood the streets of greatest cities and castles
Sons and daughters of the Sun will align
Moon will drop from the skies
Leaving a barren wasteland in it`s wake
Lorded by those who have been doomed to rot in darkest tombs
A great battle will take place,
Death and man, will face each other with grace.
The Swords that cut deep
Draw your sword, young lord.
Draw 
me a bloody painting if you will
But is it the only way? To live with a burden
Such as this is just only an existence.
Loneliness
, my beloved?
Where are you, my beloved?
Where are you, my beloved?
So, where are you, my beloved?
The ethereal dream
My thoughts that make wrath manifest
Awakens the anger that hid, corrupted my soul
It manifests as fire in my dreams
It ends as buried bones of my being
My feelings that make sadness a reality
I dream and awake in an ocean
I would sink deeper if not for my devotion
It threatens to drown me
To surround me in pain
To take me to the endless abyss
To see the world through the thickest mist
My fears that makes me tremble and stutter
They define and refine me like a stone-cutter
I fear what I can and could do
I fear what I won`t and never do
Fear makes me re-think my plots
Makes me correct and connect the dots
I stand still, inactive
The fear of fears, fear of idleness
I awake from my ethereal dream
Trying to comprehend what is real
What is real or nonexistent?
What is true and what is just an illusion?
Wishes of a pariah
A lone man stands at the hill overlooking a metropolis of a city
He founds himself wanting, lacking of substance, a warm heart
A heart that is frozen at the 
moment, a moment that is lost in time
He remembers not the moment, but the feeling, the way that he felt
He felt the wind at his wings high above the clouds, his towns, cities
He believed and he had to pay for it, a payment of a warmth of a heart
A heart that is cold and dark, a stark contrast… A wish to have it all back…
Void
when your self-exile began
You ran... and ran... and ran...
Like you, your purpose, your mission is hiding, observing
Searching for something, an apparatus, a place that is lost in time?
You bury yourself in the ground, you find no purpose
So much time wasted, so much was lost for this demented mission
Only the end awaits you, a wise madman, searching for the purpose
Of the cycle of life, but only found the void of life
Void so dark and so deep, you could lose your light in it
The void of ones heart, the void that fills your being...
Origin
I turn my head skyward
Ominous atmosphere in my mind
My mind is nothing compared to the celestial sphere
Above all of our heads, thousands of Gods that lay in the stars
Unreachable dark and void heavens, my minds nightly sessions
Stars whispered that dark and light emissions are mostly based in heavens
That Gods bred among themselves that's how humanity was born
Children of the Gods, the first disciples began to mix and interbreed
Worship of Forefathers started, we began to create mighty monuments
Of bone, of stone, of gold for Gods sat on thrones
Celestial
Where is the happiness that I was promised?
Where is that world full of magic and good?
Where is the future that should be filled with fleeting memories?
Where is the god that I was told to worship?
Where is that purpose of life that I should find?
Where is that paradise where people full of virtue travel to?
Where is that hell where villains face eternal torture?
Where is the love that few can fathom?
Where is that life which my mother gave birth to?
Where is the end in which we all have to hug the hooded figure?
Within me
Lurking, trying to escape lies a force
Strong force, that only I can see
Shame and need to placate the masses
I am an animal, emotional cannibal
Feeling alone inside, integrating
Piece by piece each day I paint my inner self in gray
What to do? How can I escape the loneliness inside?
How to escape without losing my inner self, without corrupting my consciousness?
Who are you?
Who are you?
A being of inner darkness.
Who are you?
A being of outer light.
Who are you?
I am you and you are me.
Who are you?
The one that is asleep.
Who are you?
The one that is waking.
Who are you?
I am the beginning of the end.
Cycle
Lone man stands at the base of a mount of bones,
Life`s Death
What is life without death?
Would it hold meaning or we would be blind to see reason?
Time is an enemy
Mortal. Mortal! We all are mortal!
Unknown reaper
Where are you?
I am looking for that which I do not know.
Where are you?
Castles fall, glass shatters, stone floor crumbles.
Where are you?
Guards die, skeletal remains.
Where are you?
Flowers bloom, doom.
Where are you?
Scythe swings and swings.
Where are you?
Hooded you come, skeletal hands are still.
Where are you?
There you are. Scythe swings, my life ends.
Hopeless
I am so sinister
Blood on my hands flowing endlessly
Unexpected visitor
No light, no candles.
I see nothing for I am nothing
I come from nothing and I will become nothing
I am what you were and I will be what you become
The Dead May Speak
Tombstone
Monologue of Dust
Wandering within self
Dark moon shines
Endless halls, labyrinths
Undressed to the bone
Smoke a seldom cigarette
Rope in a hand
Kill yourself, that`s some help
Ghosts from a backyard are dancing
Waiting for the merchant
The merchant of death
Starless skies watch over me
Over for me, look and you will see
Witness it, sickness this
A puzzle of words
Thousand swords
Of thousand lords
Skeletal thoughts
Are smashed, need but one rock
This plane of existence
Withering the life of me
A machine is constructed
Pain of love
Pain of god
Rot inside
Drinking cyanide
Mixing with emerald absinthe
Before or since
It does not matter
A body with a black robe
Still exists in this cesspit
37. You can learn a lot about art and get drawing experience. Usually you have to stay and learn in that school for four years. There are lessons like painting, drawing, sculpture,
art history, etc. At the end of fourth trimester we have the last work to do – The diploma work. After that school gives a diploma and the work is finished! It’s possible to attend the art school for more years if art is very special in your life and you want to link it to your future.
shows us the modern art or something more interesting than primitive creations. At the end of the lesson teacher gives us test papers. Two weeks later we get our ratings, and thanks to God we only have two lessons a month 😈 . But I still think I can use the history in my future life.
. So you would ask „Why do I think it’s the most interesting lesson?“. I like it because sometimes we just need to use our imagination to create something let’s say a sculpture. And usually teacher places ,for example, a scull model and gives us some clay. Then we just need to create a same sized skull, and that’s it.
work we also get dirty! So we need to clean everything, that’s why I don’t like painting that much.
Then we use poison and chemicals that make the plates shiny. After using those liquids we put the plates under the press and get a stamp. It’s hard work but you get a beautiful creation.
its so annoying! We have to sit near well known objects in the old town and paint or draw them, while the sun is shining and all we really want is to go swimming and relax. But there are good sides: you can meet friends and talk about something with them or just skip the lesson whenever you want. 🙄
understands that he has more in common with Japanese soldiers than he could’ve thought. He adores the pilots and their splendid machines and he falls in love with everything they have because he is fascinated and also feels safe there.