Your heart desires.
It wants.
You're almost at desperation.
It yearns.
You can never possess.
It forbids.
You never quite belong.
It's a trick of a night.
You indulged.
It's a borrowed/rented lie.
You fantasized.
It's a washed out dream.
You knew.
It's hurting you.
He lets it go.
It's a sensible thing to do.
Uncertain,unbearable.
He doesn't want it to stop.
It's a sane thing to do.
Unplugged,unbearable.
It's been awhile.
It comes and it goes.
Yet,it's not the end.
For when it's at the farthest.
He is closest.
He secretly possess.
Reminisce.
He is closest.
History of moments.
He is closest.
Everlasting.
He is closest.
For when it's at the farthest...
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:09 PM UTC
Look her in the eye.
Can you see her pain inside?
Give a gentle touch.
She might break and fall apart.
All the tears that she's held,
all insecurities aside.
Take time and notice,
she's losing this fight.
She doesn't say too much,
or ask alot.
She only wished,
you'd cared enough and fought.
Now alone behind her bricks of wall.
With her mindless behaviour,
standing tall.
What doesn't **** her,
makes her stronger.
What she can comprehend,
she holds it up together.
She writes no plans to the future.
Just God and her mindless behaviour.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:08 PM UTC
"Try is a big word."
You're flying without wings.
On gifted wings.
You need to embrace it.
You dread it.
But, you'll still try.
A certain someone.
From time to time.
That same effortless magic.
STOP.
Please, try to stop it.
You're next to each other.
An arm's length touch.
Yet an enormous elephant is between.
You sit in absolute silence.
You're both trying to fight for love.
They'd manage with the GMT.
They'd manage the worlds apart.
She wish to buy time.
For her, he'll try,
She loves him.
She likes him.
But for her....
Would they try?
The stage, her passion, her dream.
They dance, they act, they sing.
She's not quite like this.
Perhaps, she could try?
"Try is a big word."
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:08 PM UTC
And it all comes down to this,
a fading memory that may soon barely leave a trace.
A familiar stranger, a faint scent,
a mere sound and distant place.
In time, all that's left are pictures from yesteryears.
Bears no weight nor value,
no significance nor worth a tear.
It once had its time and place,
for in it,it rested on being complacent.
Like fading joy,
this too was no accident.
Change is ever constant,
it leaves no time to wait.
Don't try defying gravity,
don't interrupt with fate.
And it all comes down to this.
Memories eventually erased.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:07 PM UTC
Tonight as she falls asleep,
her shattered heart rests in pieces.
Like a dagger that remains pierced within,
words of pain from those very lips,
She'd battled with those tears,
the pain and fears within her soul.
But tonight she lost her battle,
for it's skin deep,flesh and blood,her very own.
Tonight as she falls asleep,
her unconditional love remains for her own who has betrayed.
My broken angel would never stray.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:07 PM UTC
I don't mean to pry,
but girl, are you sad?
You look out of sorts,
you look pretty bad.
A penny for your thought,
a listening ear awaits.
Tell me what's bothering,
tell me your woes instead.
She sat next to me,
barely holding back those tears.
I'm supposed to be alright, she said,
but why these fears?
I should be keeping to my side of the bargain.
But I'm in contradiction, again.
Flustered with emotions,
that I'd fought to tuck it in.
They won't let me hide them away,
they won't let me win.
Tell me girl, what's flushing them out,
when you'd held this masquerade so well?
She says with no hesitation,
I can't keep living in denial.
I don't mean to pry,
but girl, are you sad?
In all honesty, she said,
we have a certain magic...but no sparks, perhaps?
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:06 PM UTC
Hesed,Emev.
By grace and truth, I live.
Jesus came for those who messed up.
Not for the rich, the abundance or such.
Sometimes I sit alone.
Asking why is this soul half filled, forlorn.
He turns around and makes me think.
What does this soul wants and can bring?
When I lean not on grace and truth,
but on my weakness and doubts.
That's where I fall, six feet down.
But as I sat with many in church today.
My pastor spoke of truth and grace.
Hesed,Emev.
Lord, I live.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
And I fell in love again.
For you, a broken heart to mend.
A place you've never been.
A phase I've never seen.
Told me you're here to stay.
Told me, you'll take the pain away.
Took my hand, said we'll brave this world.
Baby, you made me that one less lonely girl.
Tell me how I couldn't fall
Couldn't fall for the boy next door
Tell me what's not to love
When this boy came and changed my world.
Carefully you fixed me.
gently you held me.
Just you and me baby.
For you, I'd write a symphony.
Told me, I'm your one and only.
Told me, I'm your number one baby.
Took my hand, now you're in my world.
Baby, you made me that one less lonely girl.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
From here on in,in this faceless crowd.
Like flashes of lightning,can't catch a sound.
In my touch-and-go profession,
in my a-picture-speaks-a-thousand-word.
They say the sky's the limit,
they say it's a big,big world.
I can comprehend its size.
But,I can't leave you behind.
I can't let go of what's in front of me.
Of blood,skin deep and my dreams.
Where I'm at,I'm bursting at the seams.
Another aeroplane, another time,another scene.
The figures increases.
Yet my heart's bearing the weakness.
Do I give up this live of pretense, luxury and security?
Do I give it all up for passion,the stage and a struggle of an artiste?
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:04 PM UTC
Black out, fade in,
spot light on the boy with his guitar.
Dim light, dim blue flush,
she sits in the corner,wishing on her imaginary star.
Same stage, same adrenaline,
same passion but time never intended for them to meet.
She plays on her role,
and he strums away at his gig.
Sound of guitar coming from his window,
no audience and no standing ovations.
On rented wings, she takes flight,
no rehearsals, no scripts,just tucked away passion.
In his camouflaged green,
he wakes up to his responsibility.
In her traditional prints,
she's all set for the working society.
The clock strikes twelve,
it's the end of two thousand ten.
He's at the eating place
and she comes by with her friends.
He's sitting at the corner
and she's at the other end.
Their eyes met for the very first time,
when they reach out to shake hands.
No lights, no stage,
no audience and that adrenaline.
Just the boy with his guitar, strumming
and in his room she sits, watching.
She talks about the plays, the roles
and in his room he strums, listening.
No lights, no stage,
no audience, just he and her,and their spoken adrenaline.
Twenty-six February,
two thousand eleven.
He and her,
like a match made in heaven.
You know what they said about heaven and earth?
A new chapter begins
for the guitarist and the wannabe actress.
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 1:04 PM UTC