the heart has grown old
and my eyes are tired
only tears it hold
and my heart wants to retire

the heart holds the pain
and eyes show its scar
with salty water it contain
serenity of the face they mar

your thoughts hit my mind
every now and then
our encounters I remind
as if you occupied my mind's Ben

with your dreams in my eyes
I remember you only thrice
past, present and future
your thoughts my mind nurture

my heart is sore
and can't take it anymore
even my eyes are dried
I failed in every attempt I tried

I find it perfect
how imperfect my love is:
your ignorance I'll accept
just don't ask me to forget you please!

the heart has grown old
and my eyes are tired
only tears it hold
and my heart wants to retire

Dear wordvango,

" the night before " Christmas eve
i got this dream of mine so illusive
so clear as if i am awake,, i am so afraid that time but it was not a cold nightmare
although i am sleeping, my pen was collaborating to Paul Butters' poem entitled " daymare "

" the chef " (ang punong tagapagluto)

in an exhibit... there was this---dish entry
it has been sabotage unintentionally
because of that incident, i have my query
who is really affected? the one who tasted it or the contemporary?

because if in each every scoop
has fright threatening just like a loop
what's therein on on self vitality
if the air- sacrifice seems to be fatality

any moment from now on
those victims in a food poison
should be careful after judgement based in most of the liked
over the exhibit-table, only those innocent will be so amazed

" bedside lamp "

solEmn oaSis : please don't turn it off ryn
i've got somethin' to tell,,,
i need that light!
ryn :  Haha it's just a conclusion for the series! There'll be more soon I hope. Thanks
solEmn oaSis : my gratitude ryn,,
and i hope this one will be our introductory-edition
for a simple collaboration

is such a little thing
that makes a "B"
difference.

i guess we weren't meant to be

after all.