Akin to a tree with no shade,
A branch with no fruit ,
It stands tall with no weight ,
A husk with no shade .
Promised the men,
"The tree to provide shade,
To those who eat the fruit" .
With only fruits to be imaginary,
Men stand staring ,
Into the empty husk .

If a dove to approach ,
If a dove to question ,the 'fruits',
“The dove to be lit up " ,said the men,
“It harms the tree “, said the men,
" The Luscious tree cannot be fathomed,
As it not be questioned by simple minds " ,said the men.

The simple minded crow,
To pray for its shade .
For no seem found ,For men still stares.
Stares he at the fallen branches ,
Of a tree with no fruits.

An icy cold hand ,
Dragging me through river styx .
He is not one to speak .
But the shadows of me asked,
"Why did I choose to die? "
The echoes crawled through the dead
Never bothered to be answered

When tides change ,
And sides change.
The hero falls prey to a new justice,
And villains change to the new justice.

A genocide of millions,
Is a promise to a billion .
A proof of God's inexistence to millions,
Becomes a roof of his existence to billions.

Right or wrong - a matter of perspective .
Forgotten are stories, of villains fighting.
Written are histories ,of heroes surviving.
The myths of heroes appear as nightmares for villains.

Love to some ,
Turns into hate for others.
They aren't ,the moral right ,
They are just ,the mortal plight.

Does a dead man breath ?
Does not so ,I suppose.
But the dead man breaths .
Haunted by his past ,
Haunted by his future,
The dead man breaths.

Does a dead man breath?
Does not so, I suppose.
But the dead man breaths.
By not his actions ,
By actions of his sons.
By not his oaths ,
By oaths of his sons.

Does a dead man breath?
Does not so ,I suppose.
But the dead man breaths.
Holding everything he loved ,
Holding every speck ;with his love ,
He closed his eyes,
He closed his life.
Thus the dead man breathed.

Your purrs, soothing .
Your whiskers, fluttering.
Your cheeks , rubbing.
Your noises, calming.
Your scratches , healing.

Oh I wonder ,
To not be for you ,
I might had laid alone .
To not be for you ,
I to question god.
To not be for you ,
I to cease existing .
As you gave me meaning ,
A meaning for all .

Oh my beloved cat ,
You hanged on tight .
So to make it right,
I hang onto you.
How you hang onto me.

Is it the butterflies?
Is it the warmth?
Is it the touch?

Said is comparison,
To be the killer of joy.
So is it to believe,
To be the killer of love?

Is it to wait,
Or to be ;waited for?
Is it to search
Or to be ;searched for?
Is it to care,
Or to be; cared for ?

To not be loved,
But to love.
Or to be loved ,
And not love?

“See seasons slowly seizing,

****** season starting sneezing,

Summers slowing, Stopped snowing ,

Seashell seeing lies spreading ,

Seaming roots severely scathing,

See the state we saw the seeds in.



Feeding flies, for flower farming ,

Farmers fighting for fields frosting,

Famines fighting, for ties are falling,

Far forgotten days felt freeing,

Failed we, for blooming buds,

Failed we, to fight looming death “

"Merry memories they felt,
Would be remembered ,
Even after their life.
Melancholic memories they felt,
Would be remembered ,
Only through our life.

Decisions they made
Changed ,Decision we made
The world they made
Was lived through us.

Words they made
Forgotten by them.
Words they made
Wouldn't be forgotten by us. "

Embraced he death closely ,
Hanged her in his hands,
His hands only to recite
"Oh darling he wasn't to know ,
Wasn't to know about you ,
You graced him by ,
Succumbing to you ,
He laughed ,and questioned,
Questioned the absurdity "

"Oh darling you wept ,
Wept for his life,
As it seemed absurd ,
He tried to ran away,
Ran away to face you,
Faced he you with a smile,
Cause he took comfort,
Comfort escaping a new dawn"

"Oh darling ,alas he was human
A Human that faced you ,
You could only weep,
While the widow mourned ,
Mourned by his coat ,
She mourned the absurdity"

"Oh darling ,she was weak
A weak mere human ,
To succumb to you like him,
Like a river to an ocean ,
Ending with your beauty ,
You held her in your arms ,
And weep for her ,
For the river dried up ,
And nobody mourned ,
So you wept and wept
But never mourned "

I walked away from home,
Away from the pond,
Away from the Tree,
Into the streets that led to the Church.

I walked away from the dogs ,
Walked with the sheep,
Into the streets that led to the Church.

I walked into the Church,
A church with spilled wine
A church with no bread
A church with no man

Only to see a lake
A lake with no end

I walked to the lake
Away from the Church
Only to see a ferry
A ferry full of dogs and sheep

Only to hear a faint sound
A faint sound of men returning
To the Barren Church