Baby, I am your baby.
My tongue utters stanzas that befuddle you, my baby.
I am your baby — my hands create a muddle in your dreams,
Dreams that never come true.

Gobs of doves shout that you never loved me from the start.
Yet what could they do?
Now, I am yours — your baby — grappling with reality
And your dreams that will never come true.
I'm your baby. Say it, baby.
Then we'll be unified.

I am your baby. The sun defies me.
So I create a moon from the light I gather in the depths of your eyes.
And then the sun is distracted by the beauty of the moon in the sky.
She forgets me — an entity that belongs to you.
Now, take me. Own me.

A utopian chimera, written by God himself —
I stole it and forced it to become true.
As I become your baby,
I burn down your dreams, rotting in the abyss.
So replace your dreams with me.
Let only my dreams exist.

I'm your baby. Own me — even as my impure saliva stains your bedsheets.
You realize, when you touch it, when you feel it —
Nausea. You run to the sink,
Throwing up everything you ate, including me.
Remember — I am your baby.

I am your baby, intertwine our fingers when we go over a trestle above the abyss.
I knew you would long for your old dreams that would never come true.
Now I be your dreams — the ones you will cherish, as I am your baby.

When the sun scorches my skin,
When the waves drag me deep,
When the night is dark enough
To haunt me in my sleep—

He knows. He is there.
Strong, though fear may find him,
Steady, though storms may blind him.

He embraces my weakness,
Sees beyond my sight,
Guides me toward wholeness,
Loves me without end.

Thank you, Father.

Morning melody, conducted by fresh mist between woods,
Birds flying around, seeking their needs for the day.

Afternoon begins, and everything slows,
Time ticks reluctantly, whispering,
"Not time to rest yet."

Night falls; everything turns blind,
Yet bats, they know the time to shine—
Even without light, they see.

A day spent so simple, so wonderful—
My tears shouldn’t appear,
If only my heart couldn’t sense
The painful demands of more.

One day, oh one day...
When the time comes and my tears can no longer fall,
I will fly and sing amidst the morning mist
Or beneath the moonlight’s kiss,
Freeing my heart from the burden
Of being human.

My hair falls, scattered along the path I tread with bare feet. Though the wind carries my scent, it lingers where I belong. Sometimes others stand over me, and self-deception inevitably occurs. Without hesitation, I **** myself—and I am alone again. None of them and none of me remain. I have dinner, accompanied by the night’s coldness and the dense pull of the moon. Suddenly, I remember: I need to die at thirty. Yet God asks me to endure life once more, until my last breath intrudes upon my worn childhood dreams. My son... my daughter might miss me, their potential mother, who never... falls in love again. One by one, my teeth dissolve. At thirty, why... does God still want me?

Imagine I imagine
drowned by adoration from my dear
fulfill my life until death adheres

Close your eyes, imagine
my gist inside the pupils of eyes
ended up you going blind

God lent me life, imagine
I switched it with death
spending my breath, kissing the hell

My angel, just imagine
my tongue on Hades's cane
while I'm missing your body scent

Imagine, I was saved by
My angel, I'm not Hades's belongings
I'm yours, worshiping your soul

Sky without boundaries
Blue itself resembles sea
Two stars collide
In the dark, the lights merge

The memories remain
If we live forever
Then even afterlife
I'll possess you inside my mind

As a dark matter, I'm there
As celestial stars, you're there
I stay still, no one misses
Sudden your warmth reaches

Our bodies are imminent, with no edge
Collide, your radiances perfectly bewitch
I thought we were limitless
Two souls could merge

Even after dispart, you're resplendent
You've found another sky to shine
Even after our love is doomed
You're still in the sky, in the other sky

The memories remain
Sometimes they invade
Sensing nausea, my part has vanished
Caught in anxiety, my heart yet cherishes

I am a deformed poet
Love poems are where my ink faltered
Love stories have bad endings written

I am half-poet and half-crackpot
The bouquet of roses crushed
by jealousy and the expectation that eyes peep

I am just a poet
Last night I tried to pen
out of the blue, my fingers sadden

Only love in the grave
I taste more than
the purest vow in the altar