Those nights you try to make your piece fit with someone else's,
Only to emphasize the emptiness and nothingness the following morning.
Short-lived illusions, deceptions and self-induced make-believes.
Comforting you for a while, a momentary smile.
What's your difference from a homeless man?
Wandering with no destination, looking for a place and comes undone?
The sunset shows you silhouette of still objects,
Occasionally waving at you as winds put them in motion.
Always unsure of what is to come, what is to happen, what is to be.
Patiently waiting for something bizarre -- a shooting star landing right in front of you.
Every sound around mixes with the rhythm within -- a playlist for your introspection.
Unless it becomes true, you will remain to be you.
Unless it gives in, the unbearable plot will repeat itself.
For I have never known I was starving 'til I had a taste of you,
Never known I was exhausted 'til I took a break lying next to you.
But you remains to be a concept, an idea still far from reach.
A walk through the world of forms, a reality bound by norms.
And the moon starts to rise, varying hues paint the skies.
A day that has started with ocean's blues shall end with darkness on cue.
With a the beautiful music silence had laid upon,
You search for the star's light that may guide you while you run.
The trees have always stood guarding your holy place,
Not minding, yet waiting, for you to change your pace.
Like this poem with no beat and rhyme at the beginning,
You're hopeful that tomorrow shall provide for a new good song to sing.
For repetitions are boring.
Like four-word lines written.
Variations are direly needed.
Change your rhythm.
Less be more.
Fix it.
Live.

Were you led?
You're unsure.
One thing's certain,
You tried.
You said,
'Might capture,'
Then again,
Kinda denied.
Can't comprehend,
Thoughts're pure.
Sorta friend,
Hope wanna fight.
Mixed ends,
Mental torture,
Friend or fiend?
Light or night?

Help me not to lie,
Don't ask the questions.
Within, I will just sigh,
Used up all my limited options.
Hope's a *******, a sham;
-- Please remember thee
I am,
What you want me to be.

The ******* dog visits again,
Preventing you from sleeping.
Now, it makes you insane,
Knowing you're a thinking thing.

It shows you how much space you have,
Beside the wide bed where you lie.
How cynicism towards love,
Left you high and dry.

You think of your past attempts,
Which failed for they were pretends.
You realize how you're mind is bent,
Confusing signals, it sends.

Now, you see a face in your mind,
Who'll probably just wither and die.
When will you ever find,
Someone, on your shoulder, who shall lie?

We project more than we care to admit,
We lie to ourselves to comfort our fragility.
But you and I can definitely see it,
That to those thoughts, we are guilty.

How does one unbecome?
When you need more than an escape,
You want some stability, but always on the run,
How to change the cycle? the shape?

The vessel shifts, but the essence remains,
The existence of the very idea, etched.
You'd think the 1059 is over; days you're insane,
But the count never stopped, even sketched.

The promise of a rebirth should be comforting,
But it's what's between the rise and fall that's unbearable.
And as we move on and continue walking,
We hope that someday, some things will be stable.

Faces and places, a fast past.
Picking among fickle options,
Fried in the prying cycle.

One, ja!
Two, jajaja!
Three, jajaja!

A pattern that has fatten,
A frustration in an endless production.
**** then pack.
**** then pack.
**** then pack.

Ja!
Jaja!
Jajaja!

We do crazy things to remind ourselves we're not insane.
Always a hit or a miss; Hoping this isn't in vain.
Done once, once twice; short stolen moments,
But why does it end up people looking for vents.

We do crazy things to forget we're alone.
Post here, tweet there, weird things you do with your mobile phone.
Always on the check just to see zero notification,
On your face, that same old blank expression.

We do crazy things to feel happiness.
While the ingenuity is a question of no less,
We immerse and enter the void more than we should,
Always in search, on the lookout for the truth.

We do crazy things to separate ourselves from what is false,
Lay bare, naked along our imagination's grand halls.
Being worshipped and worships, a god in the true sense of freedom,
Indeed, in those times, thy kingdom does come.

We do crazy things because we are crazy.
We pretend to be young, wild, and free.
But in reality, the only thing we would want to see,
Is some serenity, peace of mind, and clarity.