In this hell we call earth, Eden is beyond grasp, manna is droughty, evident we in the tic toc furnace...the secret to hint of happiness is to make piece with your demons and be find comfort despite the heat

Look what I have turned into, I've been taught to make the right decisions but never have I been given the choices yet blammed for every figured move I take, the damage is beyond my pain threshold, nonetheless I grin just to smile and say am okay to the sarcastic phrase “how are you”

I could be hurt even dead but I wouldn't know it, I've become so attached to my demons I don't even feel the pain no more.

I crave to be who I once were, an infant crawling back to her tender loving arms, if only I knew that it could all be so dim, I would have laid back, push my dreams and aspirations aside and drown within her belly.

I can feel the beating of the heartache drum, it's these rare moments that my thoughts are driven by the beat within, my emotions crossing the fine lines once again, time stands still as I weep seeing the greatness of the old days, when I called you love.

No man is as vulnerable as one who founded love, love is just a rare spark, it removes any bittersugar coatings, it exposes the true nature of a man.

The scarcity of this eminent toxicity keeps many with happy smiles, to some when it escapes it leaves them with broken bones and broken hearts

Those who find her once barely understands her, those who are graced enough to meet her again, keeps her burning in flames even to the cost of her neighbour death

It is very true one man's loss is another man's gain, I can barely see on the other side, hour by hour falls a rocket. Each time the target is hit and so are the millions of civilians. A wound is drawn, with no one to aid, on the other side the earth is not shy to cry, it's tears makes the morning of one to be great, carelessly he smiles, little does he know the treaty is no more...