Those who tread the path of justice
are at risk of losing sight
of it.

The saddest tragedy of any passionate
artist is to leave their work
unfinished.

Every soul is entitled to live,
not just survive.

Fall in love with one's depth,
not the appearance.

Before you judge another,
make sure you are
without flaw.

Always smile for the
ones who loathe
you.

True wealth and beauty comes from
knowing and embracing
your own self-value.

Every soul ebb
and flows.

Maintain a smile and your arms wide
as you glide through tide and time.

You can't spend your life
wanting to fly while
you choose to
always
walk.

Keep a mum mouth.
Let your deeds
speak.

Be not afraid of your craft.
It is a power that can
change your life.

It's alright to burn for something
you do not have. Just don't
let it consume you.

Let passion be in your glance and
care be in your voice. Let light
be in your smile and refuge
in your touch.

All things have time.
Time has all things.

The nature of society hates
virginity.

Sometimes you don't know how brave
you can be till there is no choice
but to be.

Good things fall apart which
makes room for the
better.

Know that hearsay
is only half-lies

Just as art is music for the eyes,
food is music for the tongue,
body and soul!

You can be proud
without being
arrogant.

I will succeed. I will succeed.
Give me time, that's all
I need.

Let gratitude be a great
star-pin on your soul.

Adorn your essence and legacy
with good deeds. Not your
outer shell.

You shouldn't feel the need to apologise
for burning so brightly.

Loyalty, a quality that is not
used enough in this day
and age.

In a world purely about survival,
the best revenge I can have is
to live well and succeed

Sometimes in life, you can end up doing
all the right things but for the
wrong person

No matter how bad your situation may seem,
bear in mind that there's someone in
a worse position that you are.

This day and age, our surface matters.
And when I wonder why the rich
end their lives, I know that
wealth, fame and status
are grands cape of
illusion

You can't compete where
you don't compare.

Tend to your garden, and pull
out the weeds. Bid goodbye
to the toxic, so you can
finally breathe.

Bask in your originality
for all the world
to see.

Let me see your soul.
Bare all your scars to me.
All that pains you.
All that burdens you.
All that gives you joy.
I will cup your mechanical heart.
Feel its beat, and oil the gears.
No longer will it be the frost of
the moonlight.
But as polished as
sun-kissed silk.

Mindful of the tongue
It's important to speak life
into your own life

There's power in words
As well as in your actions
And now, I will stand

My heart burns with hope
The pain scattered to the winds
I am free of thorns

I walk to the light
I know my work is not done
I need to go on

See sacred treasures
that is not from this dark Earth
And it's fufilling

Keep moving forward
I will keep moving upward
My eyes on the Gates

Life is very short
And there's no rewind button
So live and let live

Try to be happy
See life as an adventure
You only live once

~ ⭐ ~
                                 Let
                               sun-kissed
                               thin bamboo
                             paper lanterns
                            glide

    Fly
     high up
     touch the sky
     give light to my
    words


There                      
             always                                     
are lessons                        
in our failures                      
grow                     

to    
chase the    
light   in   life  
dare  to run  and
fly  

                                        Touch
                                         heaven's
                                         face with the
                                           candle that burns
                                           bright

Know    
that the    
lights will guide  
you    to the  right  
path  

  Close                                          
your eyes                                        
Let your heart                                        
be   the    tender                                          
      light                                                

  Wear
your scars
with your pride
Each have special
tales

                                           Laugh                
                                           without                
                                         ­  such big fears              
                                           of times ahead              
                             smile

Let
the life
of my words
and my lanterns
glow

Find                
your life's                
true meaning                
don't be afraid                  
go                

~ ⭐ ~

~
Sometimes, a family of water has a way of
being more potent than a family of blood
~

How our love is all
Our days ring sweet golden sounds
Stroke words of honey

Forest grows with light
Calming songs and echoes pass
Sweet smiles spread grateful

~
Like old friends and new,
We sit adjacent and stare
Am I transparent?
I'm not broken, but can you see and caress my cracks?
Marred body, but hey,
They are testaments.
Least I can sit here and say that
I have learned
a great deal of things...
Good and bad...
~

There she awaits-                                            
    In her jewelled palace far from faded-eyes    
A lily sheltered from the blanket of white;
the air perfume-light from the blossoms,  
                      and a yearning heart -

          Lo!                                                  ­                    
            The silver songs of Robins; the heralds of Winters
              twirl free.                                                            ­            
   Lo!                                                              ­
      A Hyperborean wind is roused from slumber
    and spreads its wings. Leaves drift down are
    kissed by frost; lakes, the woodlands placed
  under your trance. And your vision came to
be - a polished world on a fair day.            
                                         And at a pleasant hour-

The zephyrs run rampant from the heavy  
clouds, one that the balcony Beauty fully  
    embraces.                                            ­    
                      Clad in her yearning garments, a dress of                        
    snow silk-satin with a thigh- high slit and      
a frilled silk-hem.                                            
           ­                Whose arms are raised towards
Winter's melody-    
The zephyr's caress ever so gentle,              
     her dress flutters like a dove's wing in delight,
stroking her slim feet,                                      
her flushing heels-                  
It makes briefly escaping being enwombed
   by the shades of her room; the anti-chamber
                   of her heart's greatest desire,                                            
  where many tears are shed.
                                         a maid born of the mild moon-                      
                                                                ­                    Kourê.      
The Sun at its zenith pales in comparison to
her beauty.                                              
Her face, sonnet sweet-      
        Her voice, heaven's hymn-        
Her lashes, argent's flutter-
Her eyes, cerulean haunts-
                   Her body, fragrant; a slender willow-
                       Her hair, silver-aurorian blaze, held up
by a star-studded parrot's clip.            
Snow bejewels her divine lids, down to those
rosette buds that make her lips.                      
                  Despite it all, melancholy has a grip her
features-
      She is one who pays little to earthly riches,            
for it provides comfort in slivers          
Thoughts of flowers rest far from the altars
of her mind, for her mind is clouded by
             the thoughts of him-
He who she hopes to see and hold once more.
As he gave her word that he would return      
from his journey, leaving her in the palace;      
             his hand pulling the black gates.

'Oh, when will you return, my love?' wondered Kourê,
   as she lays on the daybed, in the cradle of                        
          Spring's clime; how the nights and days make                        
her so weary, as the yellowed flames sway idle              
So many flowers sent,                                            
each rich with memory.      
Violets coiling around the triumphal arch;              
His smile after their first kiss under
the flushing dawn.
Starlings who sing ever so sweet;                              
the song of him preaching of her being
                       a bright glory before others.
Crystal chandeliar that hangs from the ceiling;
                            Her on a small bench, his hands massaging
                              warm oils between her fae-sculpted
      feet and toes.
The roses; a rouge kiss in the light of the shade
          The harp; a white daybed draped
                            with a scarlet sheet.
She yearns for a hug from him, bathing ****
          in light, as their hearts beat in sync
                              and reach the sky.
All she wants is a sweet rest, his hand on her
fine head;                                                
            stroking, sighing, eyes shining,              
                  water that trembles between fingers,
happiness linger!
A feather drifts earnest, the glittering of stars,
And now she cools, recalling their sweet        
goodbye as he rides his mare,
            snow cloak shines eternally.
'Yours is a beauty that will never wilt,' he cooes,
placing a rose in her hair.                  
A rose.                      
A rose...        
Her eyes falls on the white rose in the vase,
              lonesome, thornless proud...                  
We marvel its beauty, its earthbound performance                       
 She holds the rose in her hand, staring at its                    
its crowning glory; petalled virtue
By her ivory velveteen fingers                                          
long finger,
               slim thumb-
She plucks petal by petal by petal by petal
as she looks to the day-sky
                      with a dreaming mind
And when the crown is gone,                            
                       her face is touched by a frown                        
                and the naked stem,
                                    marred by her sensitivity-
                                            ***** of its own beauty-
                                                    for her hand's sake,
her yearning for her lionesque lover,              
                                         and aurorian prayers?          
The stem falls, naked and bald on the ground
    as she closes her eyes, saddened...
She cannot bear the sight of snow-kissed            
flowered bays without the sun,
                   her hymn-
                                  her shield-
Know the true secret behind the red, red rose  
As none know of its venomous mantle    
this Rose lingered in the vase only to be
defiled.
Taken advantage of only to
                            be dumped-
A laughing stock as another more beautiful
                            flower will take its place
Boiling with vengeance, the stem is hale,
jade with envy-
                                               barbed with thorns, a poisoned desire
                      to shield its body,
Its pride, its crown stolen-
                                     From snow to blood-
                                                    its pain turned crimson,
No longer will tears of dew fall!
'It matters not,' Kourê thinks, 'another rose will bud.'
For they, like many perennials and sentient life,
                          are conscious of its limited beauty!
'Mine own beauty and his will last forever.'
From the light beyond,
she sees him.
                                       Her sun that rides the mare!
She runs into his embrace- a pair of happy doves
Her fingers in his gold curls
as he bends the knee,
The air lovingly cold at this display!                  
Ever so content!
                                          Blessings upon the lily in the snow!
Upon her hands, the blood of a rose,
that swears vengeance upon her
for it will be the catalyst!
Blood for blood!
                                  The rose will rise and curse
them with pain ten-fold...

You sent linnaeas
So beautiful yet simple
Brighten my Kingdom

Such sweet linnaea
Flushing pink or ****** white
Birds sings from the sky

I hold linnaeas
They are bathed in tender light
As I watch the clouds

I sip some Oolong
Tucked linnaeas in my hair
As I now relax

I open my book
As I wonder about you
And what I should write

Then it comes to me
I'll make linnaea diadems
of crystals and pearls

One I'll wear with pride,
Light and truth when I see you
Fellow Kings and Queens

Now I've decided
My marble pavillion
will have such sweet plants

I truly wish I could have a caged
heart at times
I've gone through so many years, listening...
To it yelling
To it screaming
To it shrieking
To it roaring
To it cursing
To it crying
To it dying
But most of all, to it lying.
All so I don't suffer the bitter
and harsh truth

And what better way to cope
than with a heart that whispers
and weaves a grand tapestry of lies

But those threads spun are, in
fact, gossamer

There's always a heaviness with
lovely lies, lies that I have trained
my mind to believe
my nails dug deep out of nothing
but desperation

Hearts are wild by nature, by design
How that's just a mere understatement

There is nor will there ever be
a tame heart
As cliche as it sounds, it wants what it wants,
and would do all it can to get it
It will slip through the ribs,
be out of its cage only to come
back with a twisted knife sheathed into it

and I
I
must bear the pain
There's only so much I can listen to...
To put a end to the poisonous whispers
that were so seductive, that made me feel secure...

And now I struck a deal
Shaking hands with the power of my mind
and ***** my heart with the Sleeping
needle

So I can work for my own happiness,
for my dream of stability

When I have that in hand,
with the help of the mind,
I will wake up my heart

and truly set it free...

Swathed in a robe of scarlet snow
with a crown of raven thorns
and skin of ten moons
With her chin upturned, she ascends
With screams locked deep in her heart
None see her for who she truly is
For she is a goddess of stone
before she is mortal
Yet the one who could was now dust
the very one who had the key
to the heart of her Kingdom

Fellow logophiles,
let us grab the silk and stitch
the words.

For we have that power
to move the Heaven and
Earth.