where it makes sense

Arms extended to my sides, I drag my finger tips along the walls of the hall of Valhalla. The richness of its impact on my touch is like braille to my consciousness. The sweet caressing stench engulfs me and offers an illusion of comfort and control. The imperceptible echo from the friction reminds me of why I’m here- to simply walk down this place. My insignificance within these walls is so thick I can taste it. It tastes bitter, but, somehow relieving, somehow freeing, somehow satisfying and somehow draining, in a good way. But then I see the truth of it all. The hall has no beginning and no end. There is no was,and  there is no will be. There is only Valhalla, held together by me.

-Enash Doog





Heinous crimes committed

Against notorious balance,

Laying peaceful conditions

To effortless ruin


‘Why’ is the question,

But answer is known:

Conditioned perplexities,

Determined necessities


Chances are fleeting

Yet, endless renewal.

But, driven by blindness

I surrender to chance


Visions of destination

Overpower the present

Clearly, their blockage

Are means to acquittal

-Enash Doog


Bounded by the languid insipid dream

Drudging endlessly through

Bottomless pits of illusion, delusion


Insidious fixation leading nowhere

Contriving tasteful persuasions

Coerced by determined finality


Unattainable incomplete knowables

Tickling outstretched fingertips

Uselessly determined, yet


Nowhere is somewhere

Nothing is something

And nothing but nowhere abound


-Enash Doog