In a forest, where bird songs are silencers to a pistol and their feathers are scattered hopes, like broken dreams are to fantasies, I sit.
I stretch my arms, wide enough to fit grief and happiness in my muddy hands that I use to bury unspoken apologies and eulogies for days I have not yet lived.

I begin to stare aimlessly at the sky trying to spot the night moon. Its silhouette, that I trace with my finger.
I've drawn
And in the folds of the night, I hold you close
like day does dawn.

I let your depression stain my cheeks and see it drip between the gaps in my teeth,
sting my gum,
and so your language interweaves itself upon wounded scars on my tongue, so when i return back home, i return with the same cuts identical to your tongue that you hung


I don't want to sound too much of a stranger to you when I talk thus tonight, I’ll choose to tie happiness to things that have asked for no such burden
and stictch my lips silent to silence our silent violence.

My eyes bounce back at the hazy sky as if it’ll tame your inner broken and mould it into a less wild creature
more civil, more mature
less aggressive, less of a spirit

Your spirit appears in the bezels of my mind
my trachea catches fire burning deep into my whines ,
my breath disappearing into a silent hymn in the dull light
and watch my tongue chameleonize into a trillion hues of white
until my tongue becomes a graveyard for all my white lies

Until pain becomes a part of my diet,
until I'm able to chew the residual images of a broken girl, until her sadness becomes the air I breathe
until her inner warrior becomes the battle field never fought in
until I'm able to swallow sadness when chugged down my throat,

until I'm able to befriend your wild.

as a matter of fact,
I am alive and breathing
conscious calls from my heart beats to
reprimand me,
'continue being a dead beat citizen of my street'
but i'm alive and that's all that is of me at least,
i guess its best to keep it discreet
lest I fall back into the trap of deceit
i see it from afar covered in cobwebs , ancient remains
it feels like its been abandoned for a while
i sit and contemplate about all the times i lived in there denial
an abyss of pure resilience to my foolery
i'm the joker at times and the bait other times
a bait to my own traps
i remain content but whither over time

I was born to love everyone but I loved so hard the insides of my lugs tore apart. Sometimes I love too deep. In a city too dark to love in, we overlook the mountain and hedges that have pricked the life of us with thorns, banished us in places that see silence through congested thoughts. We sing Like a humming birds. Singing in attempt to abolish the very existence of our stars and the stars we shared yet, we lay quilted in stardust and the silhouettes of our shadows. They burst into flames or kaleidoscopes, a beauty, complimented by the prophecy of life itself. Sometimes we hope to speak like our words have lost themselves in the coils of our tongues but we hope to live with strength not habituated in settings of frost and snow. Our worlds don't intertwine but our hopes do. We seek refuge in prayer during the midst of our foggy minds and the very cosmos of our thoughts. We recite the soft speech of the holy book to excuse us from the blackness of the universe. Our souls wonder naked from emotions and exposed to our own destinies created with incompatibility and dissection.

And within lies a pile; a morsel of threats
Designed to aquire the last savoury taste
Of her bones and flesh
recoiled with a salty flavour
swallowed with bitter bravery
Her After taste
Half smoked and medium rare anguish
Its can't take its hands of her temples she's designed to be the flesh that fashions Pain's skin
Her eyes become the fire that cooks its food  

Until death does well
It motions
And thrusts its hands adjacently
Gripping its nails into her pulse
A burn in chemistry
Ignition
With a spark of empathy

Until death does well
Shes is impaired with hope
Of solemn spoken prose
Designed to fit in between the gaps of its desires and her dissolved oesophagus
It laughs at the sight of joy that diffuses from her breath
The only energy it needs lies between her plead and its aggression  
Between defects and bruises
Misconstrued sentences
Explanations with default answers

Until death does well
The heart lies sunken
In a slideshow of mistrust and agony
In part heat and part pain and part of her will no longer feel the need to abstain

Until death does well
Hope has lost its place in her life
Pain has become her only true friend
Loyalty; everynight and day its with her
Its her lover, her protector
until death shes dead and burried in Hope

-SYAli

Lone wolves are the essence
Of warrior marks
Tatted in riddles with signatures and line imprints that age scars
It's sealed, with no cut or graze
neither of which can penetrate through
It's been protected
Created through burns and of black smoke
White washed heartaches
Living in a slideshow of paintings
Celebrations and chants
mistaken for a melody in a senerade
A confetti
A pretty painted canvas
With emotions of coloured paint
Splashes of ornaments
green hues
Bursts into kaleidoscopes
Strips of flower prints
Of a thousand splendid curses
Blinding to an eye
It leaves no traces of fear
But a mind in the magnificence
It leaves no traces of tear
But sealed inside hard rock skin
To protect the marks of the warrior

SYA

Parched are my lips
saddened from every emotion you feel
my voice apologizes
for my cowardice
I'm too afarid to ask
for every hardship you face
my silence is an assailant
kills every moment of bliss

Dried up thoughts and helpless gestures
It's as though I'm watching your body suspended
on to a cliff
My hands urge me to save you but my mind makes me wait
I'm not sure what is the right option
I'm a marionette

..controlled..

My mind
jammed
too afraid of what
May escape your tired tongue
tongue tied
bushwhacked
I remain broken
from selfdestruction
I remain at peace unaware of your destruction

Anyone who's trying to drag you down, is already down