Heaven, Earth, and Stay
-Yue ****

To love, to hate, to slay
To wonder, to wander, to stay
The spectre, the one who dies
Lost, grieved, sways by
Sways by to tell a tale
A tale of the faithful, and betrayal
She believes, she prays
She perishes, she’s away
To above, to the heaven
Defined, refined by its own name
But, what about he
He who slaved; he, who’s, from the almighty, away
Does he, believed, and told, chained to hell
Or does he, unable to home, stay
To suffer the post-betrayal human fate
Heaven, Earth, and Stay
Faith, fate, betray
Faithful, heaven, went, at the date
Humans, confused, understood, the fate
Now, the betrayer, he rather stays
To wander, helplessly, in the realm before the Gate

To Be Forgotten
By:Yitkbel
You love her.
To you, she is the flawless angelic presence graced
With the warm rays of a thousand spotless suns
But you are the devil
Surviving on nothing but the appetite of the dark abyss
Your strange and rare affection
Became your conscience
You begin to fear
That you will never be purged of
The stains of past bloodshed
And
Never be able to
Banish the rivulets of your inferno flesh
Nonetheless, your new found conscience gave you
A new set of wings, albeit it has now been
Stripped to its bare and charred bones
By the heat of your wrath
You still aim for the sky
And spread them for flight.
Even if you fall to your Eternal Rest
You would be content just to bath
In her light.
You don't crave paradise
You are just in love with the angel.
With a goddess divine
You crave for redemption,
For the purge
Just to vanquish the ****** flames
So as not to scorch her touch
Sometimes, you know
Your desperate desires
Are naught but asinine reveries
But a devil with a conscience
Can be burned by his own fury
So you long for the chill of heaven
Yet, when the suffocating silence
Is the only answer to your futile pleas
You understand Her Beauty is not
Yours to destroy
So, you let your own flames
Consume you
And let your ashes meld with the Earth
Far away from Paradise
So as not to shadow her privileged sunshines
Not to dim her light
At the end
You don't want a Requiem of Mourning
Befitting a hero's Heroic death
At the end
You bask in the silence
At the end
You don't wish for her to forget you
Because she was never aware of your existence
At the end
You only wish
To consign to oblivion
To be forgotten
Not by all
But by yourself
By time

To: Charles Rennie Mackintosh.
Mr.Mustache
By:Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Mackintosh, sir
Under the shades of the Willow Tree
I picked up the flower
Your Pink Rose
A nouveau time, nouveau mean
Lights shines through
The minimal window panes
I see, the marriage, renaissance
The White Rose and the Red one too
Blue, Scottish blues
Now, the pedals broken, they flew
Leaving only
My violet soul

Our Naked Souls
Written by: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
Friday, April 10, 2015

I like to lay beside warm bodies
Never too used to the cold
But my love is for naught
but a dream within a dream

I still want to be with you
Through the tulips and willow
But I don't know, don't know
If my memories still withhold
Within, within you

Because
You left me caressing the air
Breath what's not there through
Me and my naked soul
My naked soul
My naked soul

Swimming through the wind
I saw shadows but nothing to hold
I kept my memories of old
and a silent story to be told

But
Your absence stripped me bare
and left me in the cold
Me and my naked soul
My naked soul
My naked soul
I sat under the willow shade
Peeled at the pink rose
and thought of you
But nothing's clear

Since
You left me here
With another muddled affair
I can only feel
Us and our naked souls
Our naked souls
Our naked souls

The Death of the Poet
By: Yue Xing Yitkbel ****
9:38PM
10/21/2013 TO, ON

Part 1 Down the Rabbit Hole:

He had faith in exceptions
He was optimistic
He "believed in six impossible things just before breakfast"
and had his cake.
He mused of the bunny farm
and fought the jabberwocky in his dreams.
These things failed him.
He woke up, and was crushed with the mice
In a snap of revelation
and
Under the weight of truth.
He was shattered, along with the coral corpses
Of the paperweight

Part 2 The Paper Weight:

A coral in the glass paperweight
A hummingbird shielded by twigs
The fragile illusion
A naive illusion
"The beautiful illusion"
Quoth Marlow, our dear friend Charlie.
Through the looking glass
His world, the Poet's world,
was shattered,
Not by "a sea of trouble"
Nor by words of a mature revelation
but by Silence.

Part 3 The Horror, The Horror:

The wrath and sorrow of the composers
Were expressed
In the requiem of silence.
The conductor threw his hand open
In the final flight of the dove
For the poet, the dreamer,
Who, and whose ballads and odes
Were silenced on the battlefronts of the nouveau era.
No one followed when he chased the seagulls.
No one answered his pleads and screams of wrath and sorrow.
In the end, there was only silence
For the poet, and his poetry.
To this he whispered:
"The Horror, the Horror"
And then
Nothing more.