Beautiful is a word
or a thing that you
create inside your mind.
The society is not wrong
to frame the boundary of beauty.
It's just a majority not all.

I bet you could never know
how tremendous I could feel
when you came closer and told:
"one day the world may disappear
yet the remain is our souls:
adhere and never be divided.
You may wonder how it can be;
count one two three and close the eyes
then hear your mind and put your hand
on my left chest, another on yours
so this is how our souls combine".

I came here and hoped
to find something meaningful.
I did and I didn't.
Even if I didn't find my life
I did knew something divine
surrounded my mind.
All of things, all of lives
provoked me to see
how beautiful days had been.

Comes through my mind.
Blows out my thoughts.
Makes new things here.
Whispers sound into ears.
Gives gentle touch on me.
Not long, flies away as it be.

Let's pretend to
be someone we
can escape from
the reality and
live in the world
we dream always
play our own roles
disobey what
others ask for
carry on write
our own Fiction.

When turning each page
the portraits are occurred:
convince the mind to engage
the old experience with her.

Suddenly, the lip is wide
pure drops are falling down
into the midst of mind;
crowd of noise is surrounded.

Not long, being awaken
by the presence of time:
lay on the floor darken
to listen to the silent rhyme.

How ridiculous it can be:
apparently knows how to
let out somebody
the mind's crazy for.

It's itself willing to insist
and against the remedy
that heals insane thought.

Rather keeps inside
prefers being in pain.

Not long, it searches again
For how to take someone away.

Friend is complicated, Friend:
not only a word, but(also)
the meaning, Friend
sometimes sets apart, but
lastly returns, Friend
may be the sign that
someone's here, Friend.

It seemed apparent.
It seems ambiguous.
Be full of lust,
the desire of self.
The passion once
ran ran on
til going to be gone
by time and tide.

Between us I know
never ever comes true
never mind, just the pain
will penetrate into
my mind 'til turns
to the eternal void.

It hurts I know
like this stubborn
head's willing to
against that law
though high despair
clearly draws on.

Impossible I know
the dreadful mind
is burning into
the grey ashes
as the art of
finely hope.

We smell the old scent,
When we first met.
We hear the old voice,
When we made noise.
We feel the old touch,
When we gave a hug.
But, when we look into our eyes,
We don't see the old ones.

They tell their child
it is a good guide
follow this good sign
that inspires your life.

Don't ask anything
it is a good thing
follow this given shine
that leads to brighter life.

He obeys that myth
but he found nothing.
Where's a good thing?
Where is his life?

Up into the firmament tonight:
Be fulfilled by the darkest sight.
Yet the gigantic moon appeared,
Showed purely softly yellow sphere.
Alas! The crimson shadow glided,
Slowly swallowed the moonshine:
Little by little, the glow vanished,
Be left nothing, but lonely sky.

Over the edge sun rises up,
Yellow beam shines on child,
Gentle wind blows up,
Drifting through his mind,
Spiritual he feels then cries,
For the wings that he desires.

Day after Day, Day runs so fast.
Ask Day!, "Why don't slow down".
Day says, " Run as yesterday, today and next day."
"So I'm normal, but you are not", Day says.

I am a ghost,
Waiting for her coming,
She is the most,
Splendid human being.
Seems she's so faraway.
Sounds I've kept me stay.
Still here evermore.