'

              I        wonder
              how would it
              taste        like
              if      I     pour
              your    words
              on my cofee
              because I've
              been tasting
              the bitter sugar
              you've   coated
              in    my   palate
              when          you
              embraced  me.

i just hope that
    someday, summer
    won't be felt like winter
    and dawn won't be seen
    as an ending.

Kneel and repent for you have sinned.  
In this town, you fail to see those unseen;
Trudge the cliff and hold the lethal knife—
Stab thyself to free from one's life.

Filthy lucre cannot mask through larceny.
Alack! No one can abscond for they inscribe rapacity.
In the arms of perils, you may nestle, but you can't free from the angels.
They bestow solace thru the guise and besiege for some lies.

Behold these men who **** not to die.
Bespeak Words to gratify death, to beautify.
Deceive fellows for greed makes them alive.
Perish, neither to escape nor to hide but to divulge the truth; revive.

The primordial savagery should vanquish
But left unspoken, untouched, and has not perished.
Desperately creeping but found unequal equality—
For their obscure prowess remains as anxiety.

Those crocodiles trample people's right
To brew fright, but they will never deplore.
Countrymen do not benefit from what they worked hard for,
Greedy government grow and live as our so-called knights.

His eyes weren't closed, but it felt like he has entombed
As he laid his fingers from the spine of the tome;
He perused the letters imprinted by the blood
Dripping from the wrist of a lonesome lad.

From the lightless corner, he hearkened the song of tumult
Played by the demons where the lyrics have written with insult.
The downfall of the knight as they have yearned for it to behold
Brought the life of the feral wolf who is at night, he growled.

Their fangs lacerated his sanity through their bite
While drooling for some piece of his fright.
Each day seemed to be a night he has to wait to end;
A cage he has to abscond far from the fiend.

Aiding through masks will not heal the induced sore
For his pieces turned to dust—can not fix what they tore.
In the end, the whining wolf get drowned from derision
And get killed from the unseen battle—depression.

Never marry a composer, for he will hurt you through the dulcet words he would craft. He would compose those fragmented notes into such a bittersweet melody. Tranquility will lose its serenity; beauty will kiss imprudence and tune will be gone eerie.

He would promise a song written by his yearning soul, but you will just hear how he mourns and how he longs to break you. He would promise until you would get used of his frail voice—hurtful as it would shatter your heart when you hear it slips in his lips.

Do not marry a singer. He will sing his surreal tale; how he was left in pain and how he was broken by his past. He will grant you a song that seems to linger in your mind, depicting a cassette player and some broken vinyls and plays how rough its sound is.

He will sing you a luscious melody but as time passes—you will find it meant for another soul; for you are just a passenger who listens in his pain and a soulmate who isn't meant to be.

'
        there's someone
        who grabbed my *****
        in the middle of the night.

        i was all covered by my sheet
        with just me and a friend,
        and i know he wouldn't.

        i checked him out
        and he was dead sleep
        with snores occupying the room.

        a moment passed by,
        someone grabbed my *****,
        and felt the coldness of its hand.

        i trembled and slip out a moan,
        a minute voice came out—
        i was getting wet and loud.

        it stroked my shaft up and down,
        i was still covered
        and cannot move.

        pleasure flowed in my veins,
        a picture of my ex
        depicted in my brain.

        she, who died
        in the middle of the night,
        still the *** partner i always have.

        every night,
        i always ***
        in her cold hand.

,

          darling, grab my wrist,
          put your hand on my waist,
          never let the time to waste;
          let's dance while i embrace
          your cold body on the darkness.