Thus, I have come to understand the worth of inadequacy –
my accuracy that targets the essence of your heart, is obscured
by my vision, ensnared by your eyes. You elevate my lows to
astonishing heights, tormenting me with your kisses, for we
never get to kiss twice.

It’s always one of those quick goodbyes; "I’ll see you in another
life," as if you’re untroubled by the thought of a reason to die.
Yet, won’t we all meet our end eventually? Some days, I wish
for a gentle passing for my weary soul.

And your eyes – don’t they seem to possess an awareness of
their own reflection? Your beauty is a weapon, silencing my
tongue, rendering me unable to articulate in words. Paralyzed;
I am numb in place; I can't look away from your eyes.

So numb in love...

The darkness falls into my eyes like crushing
thunder and lightning, engulfing my soul
and leaving me in a state of despair.

It wraps its suffocating tendrils around my thoughts,
penetrating every inch of my being.
In the quiet of the night, when daylight fades,
depression takes hold, enveloping me in its relentless grip.

With each passing day, I find myself lost in a labyrinth of unanswered longing questions, each one a testament
to the depths of my internal struggle.

Yet, amidst the chaos, one question resounds
louder than the rest, resonating deep within me:
      when does it all end?

Falling in love with you was not my intention,
Longing for someone like you couldn't come so soon.
A broken heart is just another lesson.
I guess I was never one who could learn his lesson,
Fell in love so many times to even count
But this time I hope love doesn't cut my heart out.

I'm in love,  O'yes indeed but not like these others times.
Quite strange isn't it, how new love always makes  our hearts the brightest of all shines.
Funny how love looks so old but feels so brand new,
And these strange feelings making me feel like this had to come, but I cannot stop them,  if only I knew.

Perhaps my heart wants what the mind says I cannot have,
But choosing who we fall in love with can never be done.
But then again I always found that's what makes love so much fun.
How love can be our strength and our greatest drug,
All the feelings and emotions all out for display can't be hidden,  not even under a rug.

So I've fallen in love once again as many times as I can even count,
Love indeed is the strangest thing I know.
But we all can't buy love we cannot afford this amount,
And even though I always try to run away from this love you always seem to find me,
In all the places I try to hide.
But I honestly I  don't think love is blind because lovers is always something you always see.

I met the edge of death – her blade slicing through my very
skin; cutting me into pieces; a piece of me died inside, haunting
my dreams like a spectre. My bucket of tears had run dry, in
a futile attempt to fill this glass bottle of forever, though it remains
a daydream.

Pop a cherry, somehow the shattering of innocence – levitating
in a bubble of love, praying to God it doesn't pop. I lived the
omnipotent experience, danced with the spectre of death, a cruel
and merciless partner in this dark waltz.  While the heart sleeps,
my brain still thinks – I lament the vision of a nobler self, confined
to the realm of my dreams.

In my quest for paradise, I only discovered the relentless paradigm
of a life wrestling all time left on its mind. I was once a love warrior;
now merely a worrier of love – the winds of my spirit propel the
arrow of my aspirations, yet I still falter in my aim.

As your brows furrow, rising to confront the shadows of doubt,
I reflect on a life marred by fear, despair, and unfulfilled affection…
yet, we may die inside tonight, just to live tomorrow!

Needless to say, I need less reasons
to feel threatened by you spitting
on my grave; my spirit would still
bloom out a beautiful rose.

You might picture me as a failure
in your mind—so allow me to pose
in front of you, with these charms,
for what you like to suppose.

You only know what you know;
what is revealed on the surface,
of what a person shows.

Yet, if we do not engage in profound
pieces of talk, you don’t know me,
for my ALL.

Emptiness—
filled in the the echoes of loved ones prayers in this void

First a handshake with Death;
a firm grip of arm wrestling between her and Life

A tightening chest, running a marathon of a racing heart
Twas I, chasing after a lost final breath

And drawing a line in the sands of time;
a flatline, revive, and a second try
                
                     "How it feels to die"

Oh carry on, or
be carried off by time
Carry your warm heart, or
it will carry a chill in it's spine
All as revenge served on
a cold dish; is dishing out poison
to your own soul

Oh spare yourself the waste, of
sparingly been used as a fool
Working on yourself, or
being worked off as a tool

really you're the one to choose;
choices all dependant on you

|a raised prophet but without a million, a steel heart
easy for the stealing|

|a t-shirt stain of a tattooed wrinkled affair, a preferred
only of what his Mistress wears|

|and a sin of flesh, as that of both seem not to care
a joyous celebration of knowing its an affair|

a sound of loneliness
—the single man in the other room
listening to peer's ***
the heavy eyes of knowing you'll
only see your tears every night
sigh; he's empty, much more than
the room of air and empty thoughts
his comfort is only his words, a lowly
dimmed phone, penning his thoughts
into notes—a sad poem

so unfortunate that he has to start
his new year alone

                             @the sad poet

Self aware,
seems the site of you can force a stare.
Life ain't too fair,
searching for love,
Haven't found you anywhere.
I'm much to square,
trapped in my own box.

How to be in love,
must be like falling from above
Those hitting ground, falling in love,
hold down your words, hold onto your heart.

Must I say,
the feeling grows old like yesterday.
So into play,
acting out what seems to stay.
Feelings of today,
are moments I want to treasure

Love has much pressure,
can't rest for love, nor find time for leisure.
I guess for love, I'm just a stranger.

Still can we meet,
though it feels Heavens away.
It would be heavenly nice
if love and I could finally meet one day.

Some days my bones feel fractured,
Even where all the bells resonate;
The ravenous bite that indulged
Too deeply – polished by its outlines.

Having faced the forces of nature;
Maybe the element of surprise,
Is not being so surprised at all,
At the relentless cycle of challenges
That perpetually emerge.

Ultimately, we are all merely
Trying to survive.

The solid dreams on a liquid mind,
My sober thoughts captive me into change
I'm no far better than my past self, and my current
self grows jealous of it's future self
Still,- I'd like the in between of my life,
To find the very peace of mind, to piece together
the achievements I hope for:

1. To build my life on a better foundation;
as found on the steps of what it takes to start afresh

2. To work at a better job, while I get to use
such that are my talents
Whether employed or self employed;
clearing all my deafening debts, and always the
dream of my poetry being published.

I'm ready to start self publishing my work.

3. I want to take better care of my parents,
and be able to get them on medical aid, and a
funeral policy and in a good old age home. For from
the life that they gave me, a fulfilling life for them is
what I will return.


4. I want to find my partner that will one day be my wife.
But I want to be the right person for the right person I need.
For we seek often many times something we do not have.
Still find that still unfound, and wait as it attracts
what you need.

The blessings of peace, are of course
written in these comforting words.
And to all, I speak a blessing of peace to you.

All of the misplaced places,
I can't help but misplace your name
As falling in love is almost as painful
as all of those times, falling from grace
At times saying a loud those lovely prayers,
as I'm hoping to give my thanks, saying my grace.

But as if I only wash my hands after,
these full meals of food for thought, is all awkward
As when you only get a joke late at night, with random laughter
I'm liken as a fool who smiles in the middle of the night,
in their bed and miniscule covering,
I still find it warms my heart, thinking about you
and treasuring a day with you, as if it were my only belonging.

But love honestly has to be something so funny;
I'm constantly laughing at myself
As we've all felt a little drunk on our very first love,
sipping on the smiles of its ****** mi tia
But of course you shake me up, till the recipe of
a disaster shakes away the ice cubes of my heart
My tears for you, are like syrup and concentrated upon
how I feel,— I hope you can ******* love.

Life,
the black and white feature.
No grey lines between,
seems to be a set picture
The grey is what we force within.

Life,
a roulette of choices
Revolving days in a revolver gun,
tormented by many voices
Those wishing us to be down.

Life,
a hanging force of time
Ticks away at us, and soon to tock
no easy directions, neither a sign  
Yet we haven't come to be lost.

The life within
is guided by life above
As will it seem,
many are guided by love.
But never forget the love that is the man up above.

"Why do you cry so much?" I asked her gently, my curiosity piqued as she lay there on the bed. She turned to me, a gentle smile on her lips, and replied, "because I'm truly an empathetic soul, feeling the weight of the world's emotions in my core."

I listened intently, but there were still lingering questions in my mind. So, I probed further, wanting to understand the depths of her emotions. "Why do you shed tears when you are overwhelmed with joy?" I inquired. With a serene expression, she explained, "My heart swells with such immense happiness that it spills over, causing tears to flow like a river. It's my body's way of expressing the overwhelming beauty of the moment."

As her words resonated with me, I couldn't help but feel a newfound appreciation for her sensitivity. "And what about when anger consumes you?" I asked gently, eager to understand her experience. She paused for a moment, her eyes reflecting a simmering storm within. "When anger engulfs me, it's as if a fire blazes within my chest, scorching everything in its path. The tears help extinguish that flame, soothing my tumultuous soul and bringing me back to a place of calm."

Her response struck a chord within me, and I marveled at the poetic way she described her emotional journey. "It's fascinating how your tears act as a calming balm," I murmured, my mind filled with thoughts of her enigmatic nature.

With a soft smile, she continued to share her insights. "When hunger gnaws at my stomach, it becomes an ache so palpable that my eyes can't help but join in the chorus of longing. They cry out for sustenance, signaling a need that can only be satiated with nourishment," she explained, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

Together, we laughed, finding solace in the simplicity of her answer. The sound of our laughter filled the room, fleeting moments of joy mingling with the tears of amusement.

The atmosphere shifted, and I hesitantly broached a more somber topic. "And what about when sickness befalls you?" I asked, a hint of concern lacing my voice. She nodded, her face reflecting the vulnerability hidden behind her gaze. "When illness ravages my body, my tears become a conduit for pain. They carry the burden of my suffering, silently echoing the anguish that resides within."

I felt a pang in my heart as I listened to her words, aware of the hardships she had endured. Yet, she remained resilient, finding solace in the tears that provided release and solace.

As the discussion deepened, I turned to her, my voice filled with tenderness. "Tell me, why do you cry when sadness envelops your being?" She sighed, her breath mingling with a heavy silence that hung in the air. "Crying when I'm sad is an intricate dance of release and healing. It's as if tears cleanse the wounds of my heart, allowing me to find solace amidst the chaotic storm of emotions."

Her words resonated deeply within my soul, and I realized that tears were not just a manifestation of weakness but a testament to her strength and resilience.

With trepidation, I finally asked the question that weighed heavily on my heart. "Why do tears grace your cheeks when we make love?" Her eyes met mine, filled with a depth of desire and longing. "In those intimate moments, our souls intertwine, becoming one entity. The sheer intensity of our connection overwhelms me, bringing tears as a testament to the magnitude of our love and passion."

Her words touched me deeply, reminding me of the profound connection we shared. The room shimmered with a sense of enchantment, and tears of joy welled in my eyes, mirroring the depth of our love.

Finally, as she lay there in the hospital bed, her grip on my hand tightening, I mustered the strength to ask the final question, my voice trembling. "Why do you cry now, my love?" Her tear-stained face turned towards me, and a mixture of emotions flickered across her eyes. "I cry now for the bittersweet beauty of life, for the joy of reuniting with my creator, and for the heart-wrenching pain of leaving you behind, my dearest husband," she confessed, her voice quivering with raw emotions.

Tears streamed down her face, mingling with my own, as we held onto that fleeting moment, cherishing the love and memories we had created together. And in that poignant exchange, we knew that our tears would forever bind us, even across the realms, as a testament to the depth of our connection.

I’ve got diamond eyes, but don’t see myself so clear,
All the excited boys make the most noise,
Yet depression only needs to whisper in an ear.

Words are prison bars; speaking highly of yourself
the danger of being handed a lengthy sentence–
Booked in the library of time; days sitting on a shelf.

… waiting to be read

Let me stay shelved a little longer— reading up,
leading up, dreaming of a story still becoming
Between the lines; silent – even good stories gather dust
These tales of triumph still tarnish and rust…

Don't judge by how loud or how fast it all looks—
even the best stories get forgotten in books…
misunderstood!

What if I bite my tongue,
and don't actually bleed.
Rather forgetting how to breathe,
thinking shady thoughts under a tree,
I might leave.

And if I'm on that very trip,
what's the destination.
Is it lower than before,
right underneath my depression.
I have a lot of love to show,
but I'm too passive aggressive.

While falling away,
wondering when I might hit the ground.
Screaming inside my head,
but the empty silence is way too loud.
How I wound up like this,
is dependent on what falls under a cloud.

Storms of emotions,
overcast my many personalities.
As stranger to so many but
definitely feeling like one to these families.

And I like to rhyme my words,
trying to connect dots.
Aiming at my target audience,
shooting these many shots.
Maybe I just want my dark thinking
in everyone's thoughts.

Not to cast a shadow over you,
but a dark reflection of cause.
So give yourself a hand,
you all deserve an applause.
You've read into my dark thoughts,
of a bleeding pen as it draws.

I never truly experienced daddy issues,
Even when there were moments when his
Unconventional parenting, gave a hint of
Issue on how he periodically raised us.

Yet, he never did it for any press;
Or aimed for our childhood
To become fodder for magazine covers.
Covered with the words we could remember
From church services, not engaging in the
Practice of parenting, JUST
For public service.

He poured everything he had
Into raising us, drawing from
All he had at hand, from what
Was handed to him- to make him
A man. And for our own youngsters,
We will take the most
Important lessons to raise
Better men.

Burning,
yearning passionate love
tows, and tows of flame
sparks fly in the sky—I've been too
high to realise I'm still scared of heights
Being too sweetly subtle
and so good to waste time around a belt buckle

Oily hair, and ideas slipping off
a random thought before a thought
Mileage of the tongue speaking covered
and affectionate words
Going around tour on your morals,
floral arrangements in the scent of love
Could be sweet, but bitterly sour
not every pretty sight, is a nice smelling flower

            ...all voices of poetic prowess

The Mind Olympics – thoughts going round
and round my once-stable mental state –
Where I transitioned from a season of declaring,
“I can cope with anything,” to now saying,
"I need anything to help me cope."

I am like a pristine canvas, pure and white;
yet, the moment a single black spot appears,
the harmony is shattered.

As the vibrant colours in my eyes fade away,
I find myself painted with the stain of hollow
anguish – empty victories fill my grasp, yet they
only amplify the weight of my own suffering.

Mental health is no laughing matter;
yet, in a cruel twist of irony, I find myself chuckling
at the absurdity of believing I am the sole bearer
of such heavy thoughts. All I yearn for, is someone
to truly listen to the whispers of my heart.

Can we please talk?

Dreaming in colour; but I can't help thinking
in black and white — the anxieties that weigh heavily
on my plate, it's no wonder I occasionally savour
their bitter taste. Why should I rely solely on fate,
when it starts to feel a bit devoid of faith?

And some might argue I let them down, but
what if that low point was my decision to elevate
others — would you still have faith in me, or is
it simply your own fate that keeps me anchored
in this low place?

Airing out ***** laundry,
is in turn, walking on a thin line —  

The very line where those garments dangle;
but let a gentle breeze stir up, and suddenly,
That foul scent rushes back to you, and starts
to assault your nose,

Catching you off guard, and before
you know it!

Beneath the weight of the moon, won't we
resemble all these shattered constellations

And finding a good place to feel sad; is my
reflection melting out of your eyes– a scene
of when tears cascade down your cheeks,
when I always seem so far away

As the echoes of all bygone aspirations fade
into the hue of cosmic dust; my voice fails in
calling out your name – as every fallen star
falls out of its spark, betrayed by the dark

In Time, and Again… is where we rediscover
the essence of falling in love again.

She was just a little girl who only wanted the world,
but you were too great to hold on,
So she took her pain and wrote a song.

She was just a child who wanted it all to herself,
but everyone else refused her beauty,
So she looked in the mirror and made herself a cutie.
She entrusted the lies she was told so many times,
but those lies were so unholy to the ear,
That it became her greatest fear.

And see that your the Devil she sees when you tossed her away,
like the cigarette you drained the life out of,
Claiming it was all out of love.
Would you still look at her when all the beauty is lost in her eyes,
when the world has left her bare with only the secrets and lies.

She was a girl left to bleed out while we all watched,
we seen nothing in her but just a pile of rags full of pity.
But I remember when she was so pretty.

So shall I pass her by like you do,
Or shall I be the one to show her love like the many few.

squeezed into existence by the head – coughing out
my first words, with lungs choked with dust;
a body rhyming; to the rhythm of heartbeats against
a mother’s *****— eyes nourished by the vibrant
hues of this bewildering new realm.

in those nascent moments, my existence began shrouded
in shadows—the tunnel’s end merely a flicker; the stars ached
the skies cried their rain; on that eve, the wind exhaled the
essence of creation into my very skin.

so my skin ignited like a volcano, each limb ablaze with
fervour, the heat layering upon itself—yet still, the tantalizing
urge to step out caressed my feet.

Every sensation was a revelation; each experience felt like
a debut, devouring time as if it were the first taste of life—
longing for love swirling above me, a fire igniting my desire
for a pen, spiralling into infinity, as if it were all happening
for the very first time.

                              ...birth of a poet.

Thus, I might find myself falling in love
with the sweetness of a tongue,
the tender expressions that I've never known.
The assurances remain unverified, unvoiced.
I will pour my heart into a symphony of syllables,
but they remain as nothing more than silent echoes,
yearning to be heard.

a space to breathe – my ID is just a membership card
for the club of my nationality. rationally detailed;
but the details of it aren’t the details of my life

my identity formed in numbers, letters, and regional
placement – a birth verification code into a nameless reality;
social norms, laws to conform, my legitimacy by roadblocks
that is confirmed… how I wish it said I love to write poems

that I'm insecure of my self image in the mirror sometimes,
that ageing with grace, is more of a reminder of all the things
I wish I had done at a younger age – a collection of my desires
and experiences; the love I have to give, love I hope to one
day receive, all the places I hope to dream, a place…

sigh,




                     a space to breathe.

Feeling imperfect, I am constantly striving to perfect the
way I look into your captivating eyes. It's like skipping
rocks on the symphony of tears that sometimes grace your eyes,
patiently waiting for the melody of your beauty to
reverberate back in the echoes of your love.
Your essence envelopes me like a sanctuary of celestial beings
each time our lips meet in a kiss. The moment you lashed out at
me with a bat aimed at my knees, I found myself unable to bat an
eye, at the sudden weakness that overcame them.

Our love story isn't the picture-perfect fairy tale, but nevertheless,
let's endeavor to make it extraordinary. Whenever weariness
overtakes you, I will be the place where you can seek solace and
reprieve. Even in the wetness of our shared kisses, there is
a power that could extinguish flames, yet not the passionate fire
that blazes fervently in the silent yearnings of our intertwined hearts.
And when we do dare to verbalize these desires, our words
take on the cryptic language of love, whispered in the secret
lexicon of our shared passion. Embracing each other, the space
between us is transformed into a warm cocoon of affection.

Struggling to contain myself, clutching onto the tautness of
my pants, these garments serve as a vessel to bring vitality to
the depths of your being. With every fiber of my being,
I seek to erase any remnants of you from all fabrics, so that I
may intimately discover you within the confines of your very pores.

Sing to me that serenade of love, a melody tailored for our
intertwined souls. Even if the lyrics slip from my memory,
the everlasting chorus echoes loud and clear, proclaiming,
"My darling, I am profoundly in love with you."

Go on airing out people's-
***** laundry;
Could expose your yellow sheets:
Only gets worse when the mattress comes out.
                 You won't sleep.

There lies a straight and narrow life, visioned in my crooked eyes,
as I dream of a thought, but never thought much of the dream.
It's a constant struggle to grasp the concept of common sense,
trying to make sense of the world around me.
Sometimes though, I feel the need to find a few commas, not only
to improve the flow of my writing but also to make a little more
of the common cents, to bring more financial stability and
understanding around me.

I cannot; would not, still I can knot the lies on a
twisted tongue, but I've come to realize that like wood,
which doesn't break as easily within a knot, I too have my own
strength amidst the tangled web of dishonesty.
A reminder that we all have the power to resist falsehoods
and maintain our integrity.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty,
I still hold onto my thoughts of the present, cherishing it as gift
in the moment and treasuring the lessons and experiences that
shaped me. I understand that these present moments are
the building blocks for my future. Each choice and action I take
today has a ripple effect on what lies ahead of me.

In this fleeting existence, we are faced with two paths — either
we cautiously tread on thin ice, carefully navigating the dangers
and risks, or we seize the opportunity and run as quickly as we
can towards our goals.

Regardless of which path we choose, we must always remain
cautious. Life is fragile and transient, and ultimately leads
us to the inevitable destination of death.
Try your best to enjoy all that you have in the moment.

I strive to maintain balance, embracing the straight and narrow,
in the complexity and uniqueness within my own perspective.
Like tranquil waters patiently awaiting the refreshing touch of rain,
it is wiser for me not to resist the natural order of the world;
instead, I rely on my God to serve as my powerful weapon.

The petals of the flowers have turned to dust,
leaving behind a bitter taste of ash that burns in my heart.
The words that once flowed freely from my tongue
now feel like coffins, trapping my thoughts and emotions inside.
It seems foolish to even speak about death
when it feels like it's already consuming me.

As I lay awake in the darkness of yet another sleepless night,
I realize that my callousness towards others
is nothing but a defense mechanism.
But in the end, I know that I'll just be a stranger
to them by tomorrow's rest.

Darling you a candy store, you a candy store,
And sometimes feel insecure, I feel insecure,
But I want you more, yes I want you more.
And you make me cry again, you make me cry again,
So I have to dry my eyes once more ,
Because darling you a perfect ten, yes a perfect ten.

You are shining star, yes that's who you are,
Your a happy dream, yes a happy dream, take my heart so far.
And I'll love you more, make you feel secure,
Hold you close to me, feel your heart with richness so you never poor, no you never poor.

And you are a shooting star, lighting up my skies like a colour dream,
So come sit right next to me, we'll both pray up to him.
And will lose the time, but I'm glad you mine,
You make my heart feel more than fine..

So I bless you now, let Lord the bless you now,
May he count your days just to add more  time, never have to ask him how.
Because I  love you like this, yes love you like this,
And surely your the first one I miss, the first one I miss....

Our purest laughs are in our dreams —
Laughing lungs out, sounding a bit psychotic;
Who's there to judge how ugly they really sound?

And as we live;
we've lived under the warmth of Sun.
Those at the bottom;
despite lowest moments, light stays above.

You only seem to focus on the top;
for it be where you long. (To belong)
Top of the morning,
midst on top of your sorrow
But the way to get there;
knowing bottoms and their light,
For the dark is but a moment;
compared to goodness of light in your life.

A life of complicated people,
the words & actions of them, so **** lethal!
But for me, I choose to be peaceful.
I know we're not the same,
but shall I treat you all as equals?

Many of these tears passing by
They ain't too shy
Just wishing you goodbye.

Slept well on moonlight kisses
Awoke upon rays of day
Building upon the morning on a few pieces.

Guess I'm feeling a little better today.

Cries so long wishing me near
Like Death's cold kiss, I'd rather lose my own lips.
For the ticking time close to sorrow is that close to fear.

Take a load of life's bitter drink in a couple of her sips.

Life's gunning down on me with hollow bullets
Shells of her heavy shotgun
Till she's fulfilled on my despair but she won't be the fullest.

Guessing still, if I threw myself to the world who would surely catch me
A stylish life but I can't speak that fancy.

Her pretty tears, rivers of waters trying to drown me
Fighting waves of chaos trying my best to at least break free.

Pretty weeper, are you not my pretty little weeper.

Pretty weeper, pretty little weeper
Life don't be a another deceiver.

In the realm of dreams, where magic resides,
Lies a tale of love, where desire abides.
With purple wings, untouched by time's kiss,
A fairy's enchantment, a man couldn't resist.
Whispers of an enchanted forest, they say,
Tell the story of a love, so small yet so fey.

He succumbed to the enchantment of a fairy's charm,
As their love, though seemingly insignificant to the world,
Was a flame that burned brightly in their hearts.
It was a love so pure and genuine, yet confined
to the realms of fantasy.

Night time, play time, hate crime,
Riding the waves in my mind to sink an island ,
Pass out to fall asleep in a woken dream and try to find it.
Slipping through the shadows grips, shadowless nights and alone time in a crowded room,
Drug addict to the night, need to clean it up, sweep it up, where's my broom.

Moon riding and star surfing through a nocturnal night of prey,
I kissed a comet, waiting for her to kiss me back, I'll tell her loving words to let me stay.
I stayed an extra night on a short period of that time,
I made a broken craft and made funds out of it but never kept the money as mine.

Nocturnal night, play time, hate crime, my time and more time,
Slapped a high five and got ten back, that's still quite fine.
So look at this Nocturnal King, ruler of his night and time,
Degreed something not yet ordered, but that was still mine

The Heaven's curtains fall
The stage set of the world
Formed in words, in the light you see—creations of earth
In a script written in eternal
The fire in your eyes, the passions they burn

In music chords, the song to the world
A hymn in tongues, a voice aloud set in the Heaven's bound
Trumpet sounds, I hear his army amongst the clouds
The stars make the background, the lights of eyes
And the action done in after reading the Word

It was all profound,
Words felt so little to be formed by mouth
On the Heaven's stage, the Earth was set
The scene of His play in the atmosphere
My role in it all—He isn't done yet

And so... Our eyes swim in
all of their tears.
Drowning in-
     sorrows, and many regrets.

As shall I... Weep in happiness, and
formally my despairs
Weeping joyously-
  as to have conquered fears

But many, shall be my tears.

She told me I should save my penny thoughts,
but I told her I'm not changing over.
Because in full disclosure,
I'd like to think I'm learning more
getting older,
So save your pennys trying to buy my worth,
I'm worth more than the money you owe me.

Isn't that beautiful,
I like to try and beat my heart,
beat out the cause,
But I'm only beating myself as usual.

I'm clueless to a lot of things,
a hint of me gets lost in dreams.
I often sink from thinking deep,
can barely breathe.
So save me please,
before I end up another sinking ship.

Cause I'm like an act,
I might play your heart and mind,
Even when I seem relaxed,
I'm more unexpected than a surprise.
So you best be wise.

Beware of me!

Today I woke up feeling quite fulfilled today
...haha, yeah right.
But let's pretend I was a glass of water in the eyes of an optimistic,— I'd be half full, right?
Still if I ever said that enough times in this negative world, they'd all say I'm always so full of myself, right?

A wish of,
more time to have said this.
And in perfect worlds,
time travel is an impossibility long solved.

But as is the case,
you say a thousand more words.
Still in time,
they'd have to meet their fate.
Even with all the time in the world,
feels like you've never said enough
At their very last breath.

The harsh truth of time
which taught us this.

Accept things as they are,
appreciate what was before.
Always the clock moving forward,
Such the lesson
And with time,
comes the acceptance.

Holes in my shoes; I did trod:
I feel so worn out of the distance,
In this journey of life so long:

Often I laugh at once,
Cry myself to sleep twice in a day:
As tears are a language-
Speaking it in signs;
But only a few can understand:

My soul erodes,
From all that I have to bare;
Still from God, I got my equal share.

Feeling lost, bit confused
Feeling broken and abused.
Looking up to his face,
Been losing hope. Really that's a plea to my very case.

Walk in my shoes you'll feel a couple fears
Dry out my eyes and count a few tears.
Alas sometimes I feel so much pain and regret
Still as You be to pick me up and tell me I'm not down yet.

Cause, over many years I would have felt like a searching man now lost
Came upon He who wiped my slate. A price for my life, you paid the cost.

The very times I may feel myself to be down and alone
No-one near or closer to ring a lonely heart on the screen of his phone.
But You, who dialed on me to check up on my broken state
A Daily Bread to I, always You to fill this plate.

Still, it's so hard too be as you are
As such a world would tear I apart. And with such a blade left I with a scar.

Be there many voices inside of my cloudy head
I'd rather listen to you alone just for my very sake instead.
Gave life as such to my soul. Here be I not feeling so dead
All mornings of mine Blessed till the end of Day. I awoke once more again from Grace given by such of You from the sheets beneath my Bed.

Cause all you would of done is show the terrible man such Mercy
Even more when enemies speak down on me. All their words as weapons to curse me.
Still as you are, could be all needed
My help and salvation from a time to a time again. Love of yours was not of such I would bend knee and pleaded.

For over such Mountains and Deep into many a Sea
Many things of this world in the way, still Love of you could search through all to find me.

And all for this I could only say is, Thank you.

Be bright as a smile,
easy to define as a light.
A star, in the darkest of nights.

All the intricate variables swirl within me, acting as a cause to
overstep my thinking, as you race through my mind. Of course, love
is blind, as it wears a blindfold to those glaring red flags you love to
turn a blind eye to. To break on through, even as you hold the brakes
on your personal drive — trust that on this journey, you will
ultimately discover your moment of breakthrough.

And when that drive turns a shade of blue, your own sadness leaves
you feeling less than colourful. As I've likely tasted my full share of
the Blues; where my existence hinges on where the wind last blew.
As the growth of the next tree relies on how far the wind carries its
seeds— so how far have I scattered my own fruit?

Even when there's a smile in your laugh; it can feel complementary,
akin to sitcoms with a good laugh track. Yet, I often lose track of how
many times I fake laugh. Seeming normal to people, is such a chore to
have; always having to tidy up my act. Yet I navigate through these
mundane conversations, laughing my way through normal
conversations. Please insert a fake laugh.

But behind the laughs, I'm really just weird.