Softly,
My cello weeps,
Notes of sorrow,
Dripping from the bow,
Fingers ache,
Burn and blister,
A sacrifice of pain,
Given to the night,
A Cleansing fire,
Penitence,
For the heart,
That killed hope…
Hands are wet,
Apon the neck,
And I dare not look,
If it is blood,
Or tears,
That mix,
With strings lament.
My path in writing, art, or poetry had always been one of seemingly contradictory things meshing to find balance. Transporting a reader into the depths of their imagination or showing a glimpse of the world through my eyes. Inspireing new thoughts or shifting a readers view to a new perspective has always made me smile. Writing connects me to strangers and those I care about. I write as a creative outlet and as a way to share my thoughts. Sometimes catharsis, sometimes simply seeking to share or create beauty. I openly write about my experiences as a dom and the kinks I enjoy. Sensuality and sexuality both find a home in my work and inspire me to write. I pour feelings onto the page like splashes of paint, throw them out into the world and for some reason people like them. It baffles me but I enjoy the hell out of it. I hope I can continue to inform, amuse, and inspire desire in you all.
Best wishes -SirHanz
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Wow. How freaking beautiful. I’m so impressed 💘
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Thanks fiery. It’s not that artists suffer for their art.. its that instead of simply suffering.. they turn it into something beautiful.
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Totally agree. I give thanks to this universe every day for all my pain because it releases all my beauty
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