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ART, BUILT BY NIX
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Time, a fragile thing.
Hourglass cracks in crimson tide,
sand bleeds red where figures hide.
Lonely shades on shattered shore,
moons mock the grains that slip no more.Fragile chains of ticking lies,
emerge from voids 'neath fractured skies.
Time engineers its chaos throne,
built by nix—left cold, alone.Engulfed in glass, the fragile fight,
eternal now in endless night.
We only have a set number of hours , make the very best of each one of those hours.
From the moment we breathe, the sands of time start to shift.
We do not master time, time management perhaps but time itself continues on, whether we want it to or not.
Our birth belongs to our mothers, our time here is a sacred contract between our spirits and the cosmic forces, Before we know it we ate back at what seems to be the beginning to pay our timeless debt to the universe.
Somewhere amid the noise and the chaos, we find peace.
Do the best you can to be good to others, yourself, and our earth. Atleast then when your time runs out you can be at peace
ART- BuiltBy Nix
Lollipops & Razorblades
Sugar veil cracks, blade kiss gleams,
trust bleeds out in candy screams.
Faces warm with rot inside,
promises wilt, nowhere to hide.Jars of ghosts, stars crash low,
names unhitch, cold winds blow.
Clocks choke hours, mirrors flee,
rabbit truths no one can see.Voids trip feet on sock‑torn maps,
gas fumes dream in aching traps.
Fakes slice true, real ones burn,
ragged soul twists, lessons learned.From double cut, the psyche frays—
lollipops lie, razors stay.
A sudden loss and it feels as though time has stopped , stuck in that very moment forever.
A tale of betrayal, seeing beyond what is presented to me.
Even the flowers are watching.
Tea with treachery.
The truth is always right before our eyes.. if we choose to see it.
The cosmic dance
Shadows swirl in cosmic blaze,
figures flee through starlit maze.
Portals pulse with nebula fire,
unseen cradles fuel desire.Life in form, no rest we claim,
suspended not, we fan the flame.
Control the cosmos? Try in vain,
relax—you lose, ignite the chain.Moments free turn catalyst wild,
same as lost, all hope defiled.
Do we see truly what we are?
Or just the trigger's fatal scar.
We cradle life in its purest form yet never recognise the fragility that we forever are.
It is not until we have nothing and understand that we are suspended spirits in the vast nothing that we truly have everything worth having.
Learn to honour something outside of your own desires and needs .
It is not possible to control the cosmos, stop trying to and relax. You just might see something incredible amongst the mayhem.
Sometimes it takes a cataclysmic event to trigger progress.
The moment you lose it all is the same moment you are free to find everything.
Do we ever truly see ourselves for what we are?