Let me be absorbed in art,
nothing else but art, if I
cannot fall into love and
to be loved. Let me do
nothing but create art.

Mystic knowledge, strangely exhilarated my very essence,
providing a sense of strength to depart from this life I know
and where I know those. Where at least myself, I know for
sure, I lived in resentment and disappointment. In silence
I leave, refusing to yield to what society wants

She enchanted me with a single kiss.
Never to untangle me, as such, leaving
me alone, in rendering soft moments,
self-producing romance. Yearnings given
when reading poetry and conscious of
hearing the world’s noises as love songs.

No-one is truly ready for love.
Unexpected events, in meaning.
Whirling and overwhelming feelings,
to which I can feel, as for her, she
created and tame, by touching
my deepest parts of thy soul.
And surprised when she came to
my presence as she brought,
contentment into my life. Taking
the courage, into the abyss
and bliss. As for every star in
the sky. There’s someone
in love. As for every beauty
noticed. A woman had smiled.
Deeper the love, closer to illumination,
the depth of poetry, the harder
the heartbreaks. To put fear into
a man, let him love. To have meaning
in life, let her be loved.

I think the Earth or this life, has no
Inherent goodness. Maybe it’s all
up to the individual to contribute,
no-matter how little or how much.
But it’s all timely when the sun’s
rays spark through as we remember
in terms of nostalgia, how important
it is to romance under moonlight.
And we all yearn to be loved during
times of courting lover. But it is
no poet's intent to advance humanity,
maybe just to speak the minds.
Even if all the poets embellish in
romance, lush live’s - holding hands.
Jazz.

It’s blasphemy in its actions, but sugar-sweetness
to its appearance. Most call it life, now I have a new
name for it. War. Wrestling for a softer moods towards
life. Development of character will not come any other
way, the duration of it, a luxury. And dying is the only
way to remove one’s past, whoever said the struggle
will stop today? Rare is the one makes the effort, holy
are the ones who turnover to a life called musings to
living souls as a result of their actions. But one on fire, the Heavens open and glare down over Earth. Do not
hold back, go into them when you see them.

Fall in love with a real women, whose making
something of herself with her private intelligence,
helping hand from her depth of character and
ready-made beauty, trust me, they hold up
the sun and sky. When they smile, the stars
rise and ballet for them. The rest of this life’s
beauty will be shown, depending on their mood.
Everything else is pure mysticism, man unable
to understand. So, when you’re paying for the
love she gives, with your soul. One will be
Illuminati and the rest will be understood.
And trust me, real women have no-need of boys.

The only thing that fades in our lifetime,
despite our decaying bodies. Is that of
true love, we’ve all meet them and at
most times, in passionless passages
duration in unpoetic times, we’ve let
them go. Poetry, everyone knows you
and scream your name in heartbreak,
never again will you be alone

Oh poetry, how you let more than a thousand
flowers bloom in the form of souls. Smile
for me now. Because in daily ease.

Fall in love with a real women, whose making
something of herself with her private intelligence,
Helping hand with her depth of character and
Ready-made beauty, trust me, they hold up
the sun and sky. When they smile, the stars
rise and ballet for them. The rest of this life’s
beauty will be shown, depending on their mood.
Everything else is pure mysticism, man unable
to understand. So, when you’re paying for the
love she gives, with your soul. One will be
Illuminati and the rest will be understood.
And trust me, real women have no-need of boys.