When I think of you
Do you think of me too
I look at the sky
And see the bright stars

Your warmth I want to feel
Your strength I want to see
I look at you
And see the bright stars

And every day becomes a bit brighter
When I got you around

I know I can't see you
And I can't hear you
But I know I hold you dear
In my heart

I can't hold you
I can't feel you
But I know that I want
To be with you

For you I wake up
And stare at my screen
Waiting to see
X is typing

don’t try to captivate me with desire
for your body
for your touch
for your love

i don’t want it.

my waifu will never hurt me
your love will never be as warm as my computer

i have 2D girls, i don’t need you.

The Power of Pain, an understanding of stress,
all this lead to, the elimination of duress.

The intuitive knowledge of pain as it is,
The piercing truth that is contained within.
That few see, and many ignore,
yet those who confront it,
are like gifts to be adored

Give power to the weak,
Bring joy to the sad,
Give courage to those, in need of strength

Those who know pain give love,
Those who know weakness give strength

This is the power within all of us men.

From the dawn of time,
To the break of day,
Beings which live,
progress day by day.

Be they small,
or be they tall,
all humans are characterized,
By the way they fall.

The steeper the *****, the bigger the fall,
yet that elusive goal, becomes better for all.

Some fall fast, while others stand tall,
Some stand with others when they know they'll fall.

Filled with ambition, or the need to survive,
All strive their best, regardless of the grind.

Lofty goals abound, reasonable ones flourish.
The ones who chase after them,
like moths going to perish.

Seeking simple paths, some never fall,
yet the joy that they feel, is not something for all.
Living life with regrets, with things left undone,
they abandon their beliefs for that which has none.

Others aim high, reaching for the sky,
Even without ability, they believe themselves to fly.
Not percipient of danger, nor grounded by truth,
Even if they succeed, it is entirely a fluke.
In time they fall, as things cease to be,
thus dwelling on the pain and anguish of this,
They ultimately perish, emptiness within thee.

Yet others remain reasonable, firm and strong,
Striving for goals, ideals yet in reach.
With a plan of action, they move step by step,
Falling continuously, yet continuing without rest.

These men of knowledge, wisdom and strength,
know what is of value, goals and when.
They do what is needed, no more no less,
Understanding their limits, they progress where they can.
Picking the time, date and place,
They progress ceaselessly at their own pace.
Walking a path, no other dare face.
Eventually they succeed, doing what no other has done in their place.

Fulfilling their wishes, these three types of men,
lay down paths which all can comprehend.
The path well travelled, is one documented,
yet it remains one, for those simply content.
Their paths are normal, insignificant to most,
yet within contains tranquility beyond those foremost.
For what is deep is simple, what is profound, penetrating.
Those which are simple, may have seen all paths converging.
Seeing the truth lying within one single space,
he walks the shortest path, where the truth stays in place.

The path next travelled, is one filled with fools,
those with ambition, and the guts to pursue.
Lessons abounding, it is a path less travelled.
For the bravery you need, cannot be unravelled.
A path with a victory nowhere in sight,
one can only hope what he does is right.
Yet at the end of the day, be it success or may-day,
There will be those happy in this day.
This self-made goal, with no end in sight,
That is what makes these people fight.

The final path, is the path of the sage.
Penetrating the light, they are endowed with what’s wise.
Without an end in sight,
Nor a beginning to be seen,
They enlist the help of others, to make what should have been.
Combining the efforts, of all those who are wise.
They lead everyone, to the very next sunrise.
Paving a path, slowly but surely,
All hardly fall, yet are brought with surety,
A final destination that everyone seeks,
Creating a future that none will call bleak.

What is left behind, are many paths men will find,
Stories and legends, tales of success.
Goaded by what they are driven in life,
All will ultimately choose, what legacy they leave behind.

The Light of Fire,
Burning Bright,
Shines across the moonlit plain.

There it lies, untouched, unmarred.
Steady like the shining sun.

Yet no matter how strong, steady and bright,
Eventually it snuffs out under the moonlit night.

And there lies darkness, empty and cold,
it fills up the place, until ages of old.

What comes will go,
What is bright shall cease.
Nothing is there,
that will not be like this.

Yet even this darkness,
all-pervasive it may be.
Eventually it, too.
Ceases to be.

With the break of night,
Impermanence dawns.
Even that which is not,
becomes nothing as well.

In darkness and cold,
all beings tremble.
Some become lights for others to handle.
They guide other beings, no matter who they may be,
and bring them to places they would never see.

Giving others glimpses of what it means to be bright,
even when gone, others begin to seek the light.

Eventually time passes, these flames disappear,
remnants of a time where people adhere.
To values and truth, of goodness and will,
A power and strength which none can prevail.

Thus in the darkness of night, people reside.
They push on and eventually,
see the dawn of light.

Merely Living, merely existing.
One transforms the fabric of the world.

The web of karma, complex as it is,
intertwines the fates of all that exists.

The meaning of life, self-determined it may be,
fragile like the opinions of thee.
Break like glass in the face of conflict.

My fragile ego, illusory it is,
Easily broken, easily challenged.
The meaning of life so easily unbalanced.

This is a pain, this too a sorrow,
feeling worthless, there is no point in the morrow.

Yet simply being, simply existing,
despite all the pain that it may bring,
Is like a shining light, an endless spring.

The source of all joy, and the bringer of peace.
By merely living, all beings will be at ease.

I have a little black book
Inside are names
Names of those I know
Some I love
Some I onced loved
Some I came to despise
Every time I open the book
It makes me sad
Most of these names
I haven't spoken to in years
Some I barely remember
Sometimes I add new names
Not as often as I used to
And every time I do
A light shines inside
Before being extinguished
Once again
As I close my little black book
A little black book full of me