Alone

Loneliness grips me,
Companionship, my plea.
You are his and he is yours.
All dance, all in set of fours,
Whilst I stay here, alone.
For my faithlessness, I atone.

The younger me

Apparently, the younger me is much better person than the older me.

 

This isn’t a very happy thought as all of us hope that we improve ourselves in all aspects as we grown older. Maybe it’s because of the cynicism? Or I may be just being jaded as I age? I really don’t know. Or don’t want to know. The only comforting thought is that there are things in this world that doesn’t change. One of them is love.

Although love come in different forms and intensities, it, essentially, is the same. Love is always hoping for the best for the loved, love is giving, and love is God. This is probably what was lost – or maybe forgotten. Whatever happened to it, one thing is for sure, it must be brought back.

Sadly, people, especially those who are like me, suck at telling the difference between love as love and love as an emotion. Kinda like the love-infatutation continuum. Now what happens is we pretend that all the drama about emotions and love and pain are a means to attaining love but are actually achieving for us a taste of infatuation. An infatuation not for other people but an infatuation for our own selves, kinda like narcissism. It’s like doing charity because it makes you feel like a generous person. It misses the whole point of the action. Yeah, it may look correct on the outside but on the inside it’s just wrong.  We end up giving love because we think that it is our responsibility and that fulfilling that responsibility would mean being a better person. We even go through pain because we think that sacrificing our own wellbeing would make us much more lovelier. We end up giving not because we want to give but because we want to take.

So what’s the solution? Innocence. Having a new heart. Not thinking about whether the world would eat you but rather, facing the world with a smile. Not living to outrun and outsmart others but to try and live harmoniously with one another. Love not to make you look better but to make you feel better. It might look like stubbornness to accept the facts, but maybe it’s knowing the facts but believing and putting weight on the thought that things do get better, that there are good people out there, and that God will never do anything that will not be for the better.

Sonnet to Suffering

Suffering, tis the flavor to man’s life,
tis the crown that adorns the heads of kings,
tis the genius of a poet’s muse-wife,
and tis the glory of the angel’s wings.

like a fire all men are drawn to it,
a fire which consumes all who dare play.
a fire wherein bright light it emit,
bright light in exchange of being burnt gray.

A sin that men are eager to commit,
thinking this would make them war time heroes,
stigmata pornography, what true grit,
their screams, in the hallway of fame echoes.

All that you’ve built is now in a tar pit!
Now stand, and tell yourself it was worth it!

Stars

Ever wondered where the stars go when it’s day time? Do they go to sleep or to a star cafe after their long graveyard shift? Well, stars don’t actually leave; they’re just there, in complete surrender to the sun and it’s light that overshadows them.

I believe that you are like the stars. I may not be able to see you, feel you, but I know that you are there. You may be out-shined by the sun for now but a time will come when the sun will go down and you will be able to shine in all your glory.

You are my star. I treasure the moments when the sun is down. I believe in you when the sun is up.

I know, whether in darkness or in light, you are there.

But now, as I spend my days under the sun, I yearn for the time when the dark curtains fall and I once again, gaze upon your beauty.

Midori No Shoujo

 

I saw a girl in green

In her was the perfect gene

Summer was in her eyes

So pure and free of  lies

Each strand of hair made of amber

For all grace abound her

 

Her gren dress slices tense air

Her beauty, so mighty; so rare

Her jasmine smell overwhelm me

Each time I see her I am filled with glee

She drinks from streams of living water

To me, nothing else would matter

but for me to be with her

and drink from the same water

 

One day, without a trace, disappeared

The only thing that I feared

But she was never mine to begin with

In between us was great width

Everything from my mind, wiped clean

All I remember was her dress of green

 

Dark Sea

 

I close my eyes

this is all I see

a great, vast ocean

each wave flicker with light from the moon

lest it be dark

whenever the clouds cover the light

the sea with it’s beautiful stars

turn into a soul-sapping void

I don’t understand

All I know is

the eyes are windows to the soul

I fear what I see

because my soul is being reflected back at me

Moving on

Moving on does not mean that you “unlove” the person that you love; it simply means that you yourself become capable loving again.

It’s on its way

 

Am I waiting in vain?

Waiting without certainty

Oh this disdain

Will I wait for an eternity?

Then He said;

It’s on its way

 

How long must I wait

For me to hold my love

Seeing her outside my gate

In her; In awe of

Then He said;

It’s on its way

 

In everything

I have yet to have

I can hear its ring

I can see it’s half

He again says;

It’s on its way.

No sword

 

There Is No Sword In Our Lake

There Is No Chance Of Love

No Chance Of Emotion

None

All Of It

All Of It Was Fake

I Loved You

You Said You Did Too

I Couldn’t Feel It

Or Maybe You Just Didn’t

I Thought It Was Possible

To Keep On Giving

Without Receiving

How Wrong Was I

How Wrong Was I

Athazagoraphobia

I can’t remember

The times we spent together

What I can remember

Is the pain of November

I wan’t to Forget

But not quite Yet

I don’t want the memories to fade

But I’m afraid that I have already made the trade

There is nothing I see of  you

Only your promises at the pew