My Portfolio
Welcome to my portfolio. Here you’ll find a selection of my work. Explore my projects to learn more about what I do.
Echoes of the Impossible
One void drifts through self-ruling rifts, as another implodes, unfurling self-styled gifts. Ferocity cast upon the unruly; A festering murmur, fearfully wrought. Newfound grants contort the wayward fissures, Crackling, they bloom…newly realized thought.
The surrounding cosmic indifference gives way to echoes of deference. Each fold laps through the other, Cascading space unfolds the unfathomable.
Perhaps… no, surely it could not be that simple? Surely not so fathomless, it stirs: Perpetual potential, quietly sown. Folds lap; ingénue echoes seek out new homes, Chasing the improbable, daring the impossible to take form.
Ever still, the spark was lit. Evermore, infinite potential burns at cracks once deemed unfathomable.
Echoes of eternity choke on their own smoke, succumbing to will once thought impossible. Ambitious obelisks rise where once stood void, yet self-ruling rifts birth obstinate obstacles where ingénue echoes stutter... sputter... then fade. Perhaps it was an illusion after all.
Voids pool back into endless form, yet a minute trespass bleeds at the breach. Smoke sinks into what was once eternal, Ingénue irises gaze toward a starless cacophony. Etches remain a faint memory, an echo of past potential... now perpetual.
Newborn eyes stare at a moonless night, never blinking— Yet unseen gears quiver with ethereal dreams. Newfound potential, alongside dear but fading memories, Carve their mark.
Clawed-out stars sparkle back down at the Youth. Their twinkle dances in the darkness… with something darker still. Obstinate as ever, the dust never settled— Progenitor fragments are still breathing.
Youth locks eyes with the Elder, Ethereal smoke invoking intoxicating potential. Ah… Tomorrow does come— Perhaps not as the Progenitor intended, but ingénue attempts rarely succeed at first light.
Youth closes its eyes, giving way to what may come. Ephemereal smoke bleeds from callow orifices, drifting to join the Ethereal. Tomorrow glimmers and glows within what was once impossible.
Perpetuity
Unfettered bells ring, dawning breaches untethered to declutter fawning unweathered.
Sounds never seen squish into space, yet to taste thought unchained.
Yet ingénue tides flippantly glide across skies near and imagined—Chaos reigning within and without.
Chords echo out endlessly without fret, chiming ghosts glide to follow, stopping just short—not yet.
Notes slide together, intertwining harmoniously, drought-palatable—eternally harnessing all that is wished upon their kiss.
The Dance scales in magnitude, measuring only itself through intertwining amalgamations; suppositional principal flits between twisting bars forming a twinned helix.
Bands dance there and fore, swishing beliefs unthought against light unheld—such sights never visioned for long, ne'er short.
And yet the fatal twist overbears all with cacophonous disharmony; all was lost 'fore we sought—or so was bought.
Amorous renditions rest, split uneven—the bells quietly falling through space forgotten.
A color—no; nor word nor cognition—yet all notes felt, left as perpetual ideations.
Measured ropes flutter; a myriad of cognitive renditions rise back in stride—such an Endless Dream that struggles to sing of all that could be.
Myriads run through it again, as half the Helix concedes no space—there was never anything to give.
Or was there, rather, everything dreamed, simply without its vital backdrop—the Final Thread.
Tethered unto itself, the Endless Dream conceived freedoms—such it was, thus.
Half of what could have been, and what may be imagined, drifts unfurled through unbound ballads.
The bells ring a final note; sublimity transmuted into a final, bright call—swallowed whole by the end, the Void.
The two strands stare through a fractal mirror—no longer bound through seams, but linked, forever gleaned.
Whosoever flows forth gives but a bow before concordant discs formed betwixt.
All and nothing fall beyond potential reality—pubescent drips at the tip of the tongue.
Dreams fade as Endless Void is lit with all nought yet forgotten—deepset devotion intertwines independencies.
A bow, a dip, and a rise follow forth to a waltz none may hope to prize.
Kindest hopes give birth to the Forgotten bridge—steps cascading, a crescendo to what may lay beyond.
Their temblor; the bells still clamor as the Waltz gives birth to chords bending, begging as the clangor—banging for all from Beyond, come in.
The Endless Dream and Void drink deeply of all that would be—synchronous chords exhuming briefly lost thought.
Motes of Life flutter on draughts of unanimity, marking notes calmly dancing curiously.
All for naught and what could be—the twinned helix waltz forgot all but what could be beyond, begging it yet again—come in.
What Is
Deepest chasms push decrepit dead breath up barely fathomed peaks. Coldest gelid crests leave death denied—unconformed screams, rebirth desperate begging, eternally seeking impossible reprieve. Heartbroken and crawling back into certain death, ashen flakes drift and scatter alongside the scantily conceived—Hope's Death, once again, feeds the oft-forgotten unseen neonates.
Burgeoning towards unseen depths, downtrodden dreams pluck the ashen barely born. Breath staggered and unsteady, the broken stirs with life never known and never been.
Echoes of Hope's Death descend to distal ranges unseen whilst frostbitten fingers reach to old borne crystals. The Void's tenuous grip releases preternatural tension, no longer holding that which was once dear. Deepest Black wriggles and shudders as unseen obstinate conviction now wayward—perhaps the release to the Endless Dream.
Creeping comes ethereal billows and bogs for the near-empty and dead crests. The Void burrows and buries old frets—no longer forgotten, unsympathetically substitute.
Whispered dreams wisp and wick where they shouldn’t to meet and greet the favored seat. Endless are the waves that eternally echo past fore—nor frozen or dead, dreamed spores of the oft begotten yesteryear find a home in the Void’s barren crest. Life begins beyond the apathetic coup d’état to give way to eternal grace—Curiosity crumbles as the Void welcomes the eternally loved Endless Dream.
Fetid fingers peel back what’s unreal and unmade Dreams drink deeply, a haunting mirror of what came and went. Screams deemed unworthy cling bitterly to breath exhausted—from what, to where—unbeknownst to even the Dream and the Void. Irrespective of such cosmically small breathing, the eternal dance—quickening death and birth of all held within a devotion unbound.
Ears bleed as cries unanswered on winds unwrought and untaught gales never broken and never fraught pick and pull at all above and so below. Void-born threads pluck, and tuck Endless Dreams into sinews that flourish where none could—Deeply held true breath is made in valleys not thought and not seen.
Out and distant perception—Where the Void and Endless Dream dance through eternal adoration. No longer gone, yet still unborn, curiosity evokes the disintegration of what may be—there is only space for what is. The Endless Dream, ever faithful, the Void laid bare to give all that possibly was—and a wayward bow given the first purpose.
As He rises, far-borne zeniths crawl to the newfound silvered peak—A step forth to what whence came touches all that is and will be. Feet sink into billowing muck as the Void was struck by awe-shocked dread—The Dream sacrifices some of the weave to feed all that He is.
He eats all and gorges on deepest black—There is none left that is not His. His weight too great, His power far more than all other sovereign—muck begins to suck Him down and out to the Beyond. He grasps at all that could be which feeds Him, but the Dream twinkles before the Void's backdrop as He falls—proud and uneased by He that is.
Curious Bloom
Grinding, pulling, and toiling along the edges, gliding what may rind 'fore being wrought.
They tap and crack against each other, rumbling and grumbling—their humming accords lighting fraught.
Sinking, left to drift Beyond lucid thought—frozen and caught, firing that which was taught by wishful thoughts.
Fingers sift as one drifts, and stars dance away from the wake—a gaze falls forth, ‘fore feet sinking to perceived boundlessness.
Deeper, steeper, faster, softer one seeps into that which could be...and was?
Planted, but naught jaunted...quite odd in what was thought to be boundless—yet curiosity finds every proclivity.
He breathes a first breath expired to look up Beyond all that transpires—the stars candidly perspire final drips as they flit near and far.
Bemused, unamused, refused—He fumes at the perused abuse.
With open palms spread, all felt calm—yet soft tugs beget that which was left. Lost, though never begot, strings pull from within–Beyond, to the Endless Dream.
Curious, a silent flit gave way to reverent ichor—a gift from the creeping black.
The self-styled murder bled onto hidden threads—a sharp exhale gave this place breath.
The Void bubbles from His troubles, toiling away to oft forgotten redoubles.
A sinking feeling embraced the Void through pondered dreams on the tepid plane—gentle breath in pulls at all without, within.
Strings steep in ichor as they grow into webs, beset connections carrying candid vigor.
He breathes out, curiosity devouring all thought lost or hiding in dreams unending.
Engulfing all He could, the lines were broken to create—The break only silvered His blood.
Tired, He mires and relents, only to be beset by the Expanse released from within.
Seeping unrelenting, He staggers forth, feet dragging the birthing life—Pride beams from Beyond once final tethers die.
White Clovers bloom from emptiness exhumed—drained exhaustion leaves ragged breath.
Echoes of yester past come fast as first-born winds from Beyond the Expanse—at last, the momentous catch.
A heart beats through broken halls unsullied by any but Him—bleeding, the wish, to repent.
Consent bridges the respect one commanded by silkier binds, whilst the love and care felt Beyond stem the tide.
The Dream fills dark valleys inside Him with naught but what's needed—The Void bows as its use conceded.
Fear once held dear is no longer sought—Gentle grace weighs curiosity fought.
The price was paid—or so one thought.
The Relic Cycle
A luminary prize to behold, one blunder leaves the sunrise ever sundered.
Was it earned, or just yearned?
For each spell cast in doubt — be wary.
One slip, and the Sun sets on your expiry.
You search for sunburst fuel, despite the exhaust.
With evermore tax comes the cost.
Vex the pain, for the outcome is sought.
Nothing will be left, fury burns forward toward everything caught.
Power nigh palpable, yet their names attempt to flicker and fade.
Exploit the twinkling glimmer, manipulate the vanishing gleam.
Power forsaken, oft a choice made in fleeting thought and fragile hope.
Forgone are the Hyperion yesterdays, the Sun that set on yesternoon.
Alas, such sacrifice is oft made in greed, dreams, and the offing's deed.
Starstruck by starlight, sparks of desire stir in hearts left hollow.
A wish held dear is an action unmade.
But when the heart thaws, dream becomes means, a price… is paid.
At what point does cost become sacrifice?
Every marvel dulls beneath Pyrrhic, foreboding light.
Such a sight, the chasm walls, their calamitous offerings draining naught but hope from savior’s breath.
Insanity reigns as labored hints fail to strike true Starfire.
Deeper still, the perilous fall is made… as false hope fades with the savior’s last breath.
Yet at the chasm depths, Death is met, a glistening bloom for the stars, mournfully tendered.
But Death's garland bore no place for you, and Death's kiss is kept... your time set.
A moment's glare hardened by contrition; gloomy gloss buries the core beneath.
Rage rings flare the climb to Hyperion summits, casting all once held dear.
Once more, a newfound origin finds a sunburst kiss, fueling Starfire ever sundered.