Kay Fall

Kay Fall

Forever Falling
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Forever Falling... Kay Fall
Short Stories

Blog posts

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Presence
Presence
Take the time to fall asleep Pause… and look in your own keep There is nothing in your dreams Always empty as it seems You...
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The Worm
The Worm
Oh worm, aren’t you sick? You live in a grave and all that you eat Is rotten meat… Of the corpse of my sweet It’s...
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Roses in gloom
Roses in gloom
Red roses are blue, Gray skies are in gloom Everything is dying It's all dying for you Violets are rotting, Existence is doomed The end...
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Daze
Daze
Green field summer Cool soft breeze One day wonder Life will seize Few small children Pure real laughs One great moment Life shall pass Still...
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Sunday Mournin’ (Ars Medicata)
Sunday Mournin’ (Ars Medicata)
While dreadfully seeking through my mind For an arousing impulse of some kind, I come across myself asleep; They shock like fuck: I searched too...
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Corners stare
Corners stare
In the center it's too bright... and silent Dark corners stare at me and yearn Without shame, or curves, or exits; Timeless and stale I...
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Contact

Forever Falling… Kay Fall

Presence
Presence
Take the time to fall asleep Pause… and look in your own keep There is nothing in your dreams Always empty as it seems You...
Read More
The Worm
The Worm
Oh worm, aren’t you sick? You live in a grave and all that you eat Is rotten meat… Of the corpse of my sweet It’s...
Read More
Roses in gloom
Roses in gloom
Red roses are blue, Gray skies are in gloom Everything is dying It's all dying for you Violets are rotting, Existence is doomed The end...
Read More
Daze
Daze
Green field summer Cool soft breeze One day wonder Life will seize Few small children Pure real laughs One great moment Life shall pass Still...
Read More
Sunday Mournin’ (Ars Medicata)
Sunday Mournin’ (Ars Medicata)
While dreadfully seeking through my mind For an arousing impulse of some kind, I come across myself asleep; They shock like fuck: I searched too...
Read More
Corners stare
Corners stare
In the center it's too bright... and silent Dark corners stare at me and yearn Without shame, or curves, or exits; Timeless and stale I...
Read More

Short Stories

Blog posts

s

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Poetry

Some rhyme.  Most times. Some don’t.  They’re bored.