Her heart is unobtainable
She haunts me in my sleep
My will is not sustainable
There's nothing left to keep

I've seen Her in my better dreams
But, they're too far away
At night, Her livid heart still screams:
'Why can't you let me stay?!'

I feel Her still, aside my brain
She's trying to get in
I'll lose my mind if she'll remain
So, don't let Love begin

I crumble, deep inside this text
My heart's a bitter crutch
When all I know is quickly vexed
I treat my dreams as such...

A year or so from now,
when you hear thunder in the sky,
pretend it is me talking to you.

Think of me, from time to time.
Remember me, remember me.
When a song plays that was
one of my favourites, sing along
with it for me. Sing loud and clear.
I'll be with you. I'll be with you.

Do not grieve for long. Instead,
play again those funny moments
when life was long and years
of sharing stretched ahead.
Hear the humour we shared,
and smile again at old jokes.

A year or so from now,
when you are looking at pictures,
see again how happy we were.

These are what matter, I think.
The joyful seconds that make
the mundane easy to bear.
Those scattered, silly
laughing things that stay
eternally present in the mind.

We are only hands that clap
in harmony for a limited time.
Touches of spaces that are
full of vigour, than are empty.
Hesitant to leave what we
know, knowing it must be so.

A year or so from now,
remember me. Remember me.

Little children should not die,
while their mother cold and dead does lie.
This is not how it's supposed to be.

People should not be running in fear for their lives,
from the threat of terrorists and bloodshed.
This is not how it's supposed to be.

Families should not be broken.
Marriages should not be ending.
Children should not be starving.
This is not how it's supposed to be.

Love should not be growing cold.
Growing
cold.
But we live in a fallen world.
A world without God.
A world where evil reigns.
Until the New and Coming Reign.
When the Evil One will be forever restrained.
And the King of Kings shall take His rightful claim.
To sit upon the Throne.
And establish Love again.
In the New and Coming Reign.

So this is happening
This is really happening

We call them soldiers
Killing machine that fight for peace
As everything around them is blown to smithereens
They die for a good cause we like to say
Not truly acknowledging that sacrifice they just made
Their dead...
The blood that trickles down stream clearly indicates that
That's something we have become too acquainted with actually
Never truly had a problem with leaving our own behind
Even though in the beginning we preach just the opposite
****, we're sick
Infected with this disease to send one another out to die alone
As we watch them cry begging go home
But there is no home, not for us
If we don't win there will only be misery
Blood rivers that come together to form masses big enough to drown in
But it's the same story even if we do win
Nothing but death

**to be continued

tightrope walking on
litanies of monsoon
                      misplaced
yet, eluded by routines
in this like minded minds

too many
sugar spoon fed
                    blame and
depreciation in a
positive
      view of the world

too many
jaded mouths echoing the
same values that was ripped
          right from the spine of
                          human kind
beginnings

these days
youth means being
                unheard
unnoticed
only riots of sounds
that is deemed too
                foolish to
amount to anything
a neon sign of all the things
that would rather be
                              denied

write her a poem
on the back of a receipt from
two weeks ago

turn it into an airplane
and with all your might
fly it towards her direction

watch it land slowly
watch her pick it up
and laugh

jesus christ
she looks so pretty
when her eyes smile like that
but *******
you weren't prepared for
the crash

why didn't anyone teach you
how to wear a parachute