What if I want out,
Will you punish me?
What if I can't give back,
Will you hate me?
What if I don't feel the same way?
Will you shut me out?
What if I can't hold on,
Will you desert me?
What if my heart beats for another?
Will you rip it out?
Sometimes,
A line in friendship is crossed,
Feelings surface
But most are better off
Friends than lovers
What if
What if
What if
You just pulled the plug to our friendship.

ROSES,
So valuable, yet full of thorns
He wants it,
But can't stand the prickling.
"All my fingers keep bleeding!
Oh the scars! I can take no more!" Laments he.

LILIES,
Almost of lesser value, sits on a pond's surface.
"Yeah, that will do!" Says he.
"At least I can say I've me a flower.
It might not be worth it, but it will do just fine."

But a frog is perched on it
He's willing to unsit that cursed amphibian,
To get to that vain Lily
Which has no worth
Compared to the Rose,
Simply 'cause it stings not.

Mother nature sighs after watching awhile
"Good things never come easy."
Mutters she.
"One who's deserving of the Rose
Is surely nigh!"

And with time, blossomed did the Rose,
Whilst the Lily withered.

I keep digging
But whatever I'm seeking
Seems to elude the sharp edge of my groping shovel
All I need is that "tonk" that I have hit something,
I eye the mountain of dug-up dirt
My sweat-kissed brow
The hot unpleasant air on my cheeks
Out alone in the sterile field
Only the sun sinking in the horizon
I bend again with both tired arms
I dig, dig, dig, dig
What do I seek?
The trust you shattered
When you began to please another at my detriment
The fragments are sharp and dangerous
They hurt now while in pieces
I had to bury them
Dig, dig, dig
"Tonk" finally!
All I can exhume
Is its carcass
It's dead
Unable to be revived.
I give up
I toss the shovel away
I turn and I take the goodbye walk.

Stella found a door in the new house
Hidden under the stairs from the adults
A door with a size so small for a crawl
At twelve midnight,
She was attracted to it
Drawn by the bright lights
That shone from within.

In she went, despite just being six
Into the cold narrow corridor
She found a lonely doll
With cheeks so rosy
And laughing eyes so blue
Out with it she crawled
To bond with her new best friend.

From that day,
Mum had nightmares
And dad became prone to accidents
Elder sister almost drowned in the tub
And her brother fell from the tree house
But all the doll did was laugh and laugh.
A laughter she alone could hear
She was scared and slept with it no more

One day, while she was away in school
Doll springs out of her room
Frightens mum who rolled down the stairs and broke her neck.
Elder sister was choked by her own necklace
Little brother gouged his eyes out
Dad set himself and the house ablaze.

And when Aunt came to take her away
Not a second glance did she spare the hateful laughing doll.
Thirty five years later, in her new home
Her daughter, Annabel came running into the room with a happy scream
With the doll held up in her hands.

"Look what I found! I'll call her Annie!"
Taken aback, eyes wide with shock
Those mockiing blue eyes holding hers
Stella clasped the sides of her head
And screamed as the doll began to laugh again!
A laughter only she could always hear.
The doll was back!
To take her beloved family away
Again!

The ******* the bridge,
Always on a yellow blouse
And a white flowing skirt.
Never a night does she misses her spot.
Elbows on the railings
Hair fluttering as wild as the wind
Always obscuring her face from sight.

Every night, I wonder
Who is she?
Where is she from?
Why this lonely bridge?
Never seen her move a muscle
Nor utter a sound.
It was rather strange.

Until one night, I decided to chat with her.
"Hey" I called but no response.
She must be coy...
"Hey..." I tried again and approached her this time.
No response still.
Is she deaf?

I touch her shoulder and she turns
She gave a shrilling scream
And that was all I remembered.
In the hospital I woke
And when asked why I had passed out on a bridge,
I could give no response.
I was cold.
The memory brought nothing but pure terror.

For how could I tell them
That the ******* the bridge
Had no face?
Yet she had always gazed down at the flowing stream below
And she had screamed right at me with no mouth on her empty face.

Anytime I walk on the bridge
Her spot is always empty
For she's forever gone
But I still have this wary feeling
That she watches me from the shadows
With that faceless horror
Waiting to take my face for hers.

She tosses.
She turns.
Restlessness comes with perspiration.
A rather peculiar presence in the room.

The sheets creases more,
They turn damp from her sweat.
Fingers clench them in grips.
And an helpless moan from her lips.

A cold touch she felt on her shin
Eyes fly open.
Gasping and jumping awake.
There across the room was the problem.

The wraith shrouded in the darkness
Skull face as eerie as ever
Eyes like two burning orbs
His pasted sinister smile fixed on her.

With an outstretched hand,
He beckons with a skeletal finger-
It's time!

An isolated farm house
In the outskirt of town.
At the strike of 3a.m
Someone came knocking.
With a lamp at hand
Old Mrs. Peterson descended the Stairs Into her quaint living room,
To the door she went.

"Knock knock" it came again
Puzzled, at the grandfather clock
She glanced.
"Knock knock" again it came.
In trepidation, she approached the door.
Key turned, doorchain detached,
Gingerly, she opens the door
There was no one. No one!

Few seconds later, she was startled
By the sounds of hooves
Thumping up her stairs,
And on the wall
Was the eerie shadow of
A humanoid creature
With ram horns and hooves.

     I had better call the sheriff
       *She mutters in displeasure
     **I have a **** bugler dressed in a crazy costume in my house

That song! That haunting song!
At twenty years of age,
Off his bed he rose
And to his window he went
There she was, seated in the swing
And singing to herself her lullaby.
It was always her favourite.

She lifted her blank eyes and held his
Those eyes sent shivers down his spine.
A ghost she was,
Why wouldn't she leave him be?
Yes, responsible for her death he was
But that was three years ago.

At thirty four, even after marraige
With three beautiful kids,
She still wouldn't leave that swing
Or put a stop to that **** song
He alone heard her
He told no one else about this ghost
But wanted nothing to do with her.

At fifty, she was still at the swing
Singing and swaying in the swing
She still looked sixteen,
But he looked frail.
He had tried to tell her off
But not a single word would she utter to him.
It was a **** gone wrong
A girlfriend in highschool,
Who had been adamant to give away her virtue.
And the overdose had killed her.

At seventy, an heart attack he had,
Right in the yard.
He couldn't breathe
And he couldn't cry for help.
At the brink of death, she finally left her perch
And floated to his dying body.
Only a sentence she whispered,
And it was colder than death itself.

**You were always my first love

A moan,
Yes it was a moan!
From a woman!
But who?
A new bride forced into a marriage,
To be forever with a man who loved her not asked herself.

He refused to consummate,
And never for once did he touch her.
Yet, he snuck out every night.
To do what? She knew not!
On a certain fortnight,
Her curiosity got the best of her.
With a lantern, she followed,
And to the garden in the manor,
He unknowingly led her.

To her horror, he was making love
Yes! Cheating on her!
Her beloved husband with another woman!
He made love to his lover on the trimmed grass.
Whom he showered affection he had never on her.

Alas! After the heated pleasure,
His lover and rose
And into the roundabout pedestal she steps,
Taking the posture of the statue
Which had lived tens of years in the manor.

But how? Why could he love a statue?
Made passionate love to her all night
And yet, avoid her, his wife,
Like a plague?!!
Come morning, she decided-
She would break down that statue
And end this secret Obscene affair!

He beheld an orphan as he rode by,
Not even her beauty could he bye.
A master of many slaves he was,
Who had just returned from the war.
Her chastity overwhelmed his senses,
That he was bound to keep her within his fences.

He tied with her the marital knot,
Showering his affection on her a lot.
Came night, he took her home in his carriage,
To consummate their blissful marriage.
In weeks there was a conception,
And he planned at the birth of his child a stupendous reception.

Come due time, the midwives held to him his new baby,
And when he laid eyes on it, his love died for his lady,
For the baby had the skin colour of a slave,
And he wondered if she had had an illicit affair behind him, slaked.

He was greatly in shame,
Not even her cries of innocence could redeem his fame.
He visited no more her bed,
For he would rather keep company with the birds.
He had broken her heart
And turned his attention to art.

Come one morning, he cast her out.
With her child, her fostal parents she sought.
All her belongings, he brought out to be burnt,
And there he discovered the letter of his brunt.
His slave mother writing to his white father,
That if his true identity was hidden, it wouldn't matter.

Now he knew, he was a mixed-race
Who had discriminately thrown out, his lovely wife who vanished had without a trace.
And his black baby he had scorned,
When his mixed blood had been the very thorn.

Running from a demented Ex,
Several kilometers to a lone cabin,
She travelled.
She was feeling comfortable
Although lonely in this forest world.
A glass of juice in hand,
She steps out on the porch.

Halting in shock,
For on the edge of the foot path,
Waits a big grey wolf,
With intense gaze fixed on her.
"Shoo!" She tells it.
But flinch, it doesn't.
Retreats into the cabin she does,
To bolt all windows and doors.

Soon, the wolf loses interest and leaves.
Come night, she undresses to bath.
But in her bedroom doorway,
Appears the grey wolf.
Caught in surprise, she gasps and falls.
And in her shock, she watches it
Morph into a man.
Not just any man, a breathtaking one.

She's hypnotized by the sight of him.
He approaches, carries her,
In his arms to the shower
Where he makes passionate love
To her against the wall.
His fangs sinking into her shoulder
In the ****** of the ****** passion,
Until after a mind-blowing ******, she blacks out into unconsciousness.

Several hours later,
Her consciousness she regains.
On her bed she wakes.
She remembers. But perhaps,
It was all a dream.
But the soiled paw-print on her rug,
And the aching pain on her shoulder
Revealed otherwise,
Until the distant howl of her new
Lover, reaches her from the forest,
Making her shudder with a new craving need to be made love to-

**Again!

Love** is unique
It brings pain, tears and joy
It can bend even the strongest of hearts
When caught in between two,
Your love for one surpasses the other.

What hurts is-
Seeing the one you love,
Loving another
What hurts more,
Is being in love with someone
Who loves you,
But rather gives you a wide berth
Because it seems to be the best.

She's a stripper,
Who strips to stir the crotches of men.
She's a wanton minx,
But that's what she's paid for.
Her curves and back are
Strewn with a dozen of scary tattoos,
That no one can decipher.

Her honey *** is sacred,
Not even millions will win you a dive.
But come one midnight,
Closed from work she is,
A stalker tailed her
Determined to be the first,
Between her sacred thighs.

He waits till an alley draws near,
Then pounces he does.
Her clothes he rips off,
A couple of blows to stun her.
On the ground he forces her,
And into her he thrusts,
Panting in victory and pleasure.

She doesn't fight, she lets him.
And soon, he feels peculiarly hot,
Screaming in agony, he disintegrates,
Only to be ****** into her body.
His face, that of pure anguish
Joining the numerous tattoos
Of faces on her back.

Up she gets, gathers her clothes
And home she went, to strip come
Another night.

Prayer,
Yes, prayer.
The incessant chiming in the belfry,
But no Christian heeds its Sunday call.
Deserted was the small town,
But she knelt, palms put together,
Head bowed,
Prayer.

Alone in a cursed-deserted town.
The perculiar breeze from the open door,
Sweeps dead leaves down the aisle,
Towards her dust-coated boots
She doesn't stir, too still.

Noon suddenly morphs into darkness,
Crazy sky licking nasty lightnings,
Obscured by tumbling grey clouds.
Above the church, a grotesque's eyes comes alive
Wings shoots and it swoops below
With a noxious cry.

She scrambles out of prayer,
Lips quivering.
In steps into the old church,
The grotesque silhouette,
And into her almost due pregnant bump it plunges!

A cry of anguish!
She doubles in pain!
Eyes going inky black!
A cobweb of welts envelopes her stomach!
Something crawls within!
Bells' chimes!
A baby cries!

She gasps,
No, a moan
Her hands unconsciously roams,
Ravishing her supple young body.

In the shadows of the room,
Stood her very phantom-
A stark naked god
Whose ****** the nymphs would worship
And watching keenly with silver rimmed eyes, he did.

Offering her ****** images concocted by his immortal mind.
With a gasp, she wakes after a breathtaking ******.
In the dark, only his eyes she could see.
Susceptible and drawn to him, she felt.

But out of his back, wings sprout.
Its heavy beats fluttering the white curtains.
And into the night sky he soared,
Never to return again,
To his human lover
Whose dreams he had only existed

He was anonymous.

That night,
When the horses whined.
That night,
When the sea frothed white.
That night,
When the wind was slight.
That night,
When the passion was just right.
When crazed with wine
And awed by our desire's might,
And not even my guilty plight,
Tore the pleasure from my mind.
On our bodies we dined,
Till bells of midnight chimed.
The knots were not tied,
Cuz we were ridden with pride.
And revealed were our blights,
Yet we tried.

An ink and a blot
A paper and its creases
A bored poet at loss
The lone shadow of the candle flame,
Hides the rest of the world from light
An alley cat's stealth walk
Creeps past the window of the poet
He stretches, cranes his neck
There, a maiden trod in the night
Under the canopy shadows of still trees
The wind was queer tonight
The moon seemed bashful too
He reaches out to call
But she turns to look at him
And like a dying wisp of a candle,
She's gone.
Dumbstruck, he sits,
He smoothens out the creases
He ignores the blot
He writes a poem
Of the maiden in the shadows.

A forbidden haunt but tempting.
***** with such rare grandeur.
Its dwelling- a cushion of serenity,
Crumbling all skepticism.
Fun, love and hope lit its foyer.

Romance and tenderness- its bedroom.
Spring shone through its windows.
One winter night came the storm.
The thunders struck!
The weather laid siege!

Until its foundations rattled!
Ceaseless attacks abounded!
All hopes fled!
Sadness flooded its gates!
Defiance was the order of its day!

Doubt ruled!
And soon the house will all be nothing but worthless rubbles,
Rubbles that was dreaded but all the same inevitable.

There's a fae
Who lives in a fern.
Her wings so little,
Her feet so kittle.

She was a tease,
But certainly not the least.
She flits through the grass,
With a skimpy dress of brass.

She hides in the shrub,
And offers a defiant shrug.
Her whistles beckons to the birds,
Even the goblins dare leave their beds.

Her step on petals are of light springs,
Even with hair tied in ribbon strings.
Mischievous little thing she was
Other wary faes ought to pause.

So carefree she treads,
Even mama could not knot her in a thread.
Most often, mama warns and shoos
Always, she'd never heed but coos.

One moon-ful night,
When she forgot her plight,
Into the sky, unwarily she soars,
And ends up torn in the bellies of owls.

With all her strenght did she beat
But the night birds had had their bits!
A mournful dirge for a fae no bigger than a wasp,
But who ends up dying with a gasp!

She was a minx
But very chaste
The attention she loved
The teasing no less
The club guys leered
Her winks could could give a *****
She wanted experience with men
So why not make the best of it and go unscathed.

One night, messed with the wrong dude, she did
Played along he did
Didn't fail to study her
A lesson she needed to be taught
Thought he to himself
"Go out back with me" says he.
Handle him I can- she thought
Why not make him crave and leave his ***** blue- she smiled.

Complied she did
His kisses were demanding
She offered and decided to break off
He was in her path
Her size small compared to his stoutness
Rip! Her gown went
Shreds her ******* became
Plunge! He did!
Cries, fights, screams, pleas
No mercy!

Until he was sated did he withdraw
Blood mixed with tears and *****
"I got my eyes on you from the onset." He said.
"What a little minx you were"
"Keep teasing and I'll keep ripping."
Off he went, sore and sorrowful she remained
But!
Surprisingly, she actually liked it
He fulfilled her dark fantasy!

How heart-wrenching the four-letter word can subject one to.
Surpasses all emotion and is the creator of the good and bad.
You taught me.
I learnt but you faltered.
Stuck with his image when in another's arms.
The feeling keeps gnawing.
Heartache grows and I just can't adapt.
Caught between happiness and conscience.
But the former surpasses the latter.
To suppress I have tried.
Till I know not my self anymore.
Don't make me choose.
One or two?
You always triumphed.
What LOVE could do!
With time, perhaps
The memory should fade
But only a comforting lie to myself.

Caught in the web of ethics
Caught in the strings of right and wrong
Caught in between betrayal and need
Till my craving gnaws at my very dreams.

A lot of things that should have happened that did not.
I thought I was strong enough
But not even my ego could tame such an emotion

Crazy in love is an understatement
Helpless in love is what begets me.
Never did I suspect it was possible to love two
Yet my heart succumbs despite my restraint.

Wild kisses that render me speechless
Homourous talk that makes me tremble
Might regret spilling such an emotion
He's got eyes here anyway.

I hate how much the worm has burrowed deep
But to pull it out, my limbs go limp
I thought this was forever gone
But I've been proven wrong

Find me a mistletoe tree so I can get this done with
Or I shall sulk till the memories turn to ashes.
Shackled my throbbing heart is but I have made up my mind never to stick my tongue in flames anymore

Hidden tears of my throbbing heart.

Here comes my lycan
His paws as if scuplted for my cheeks
His blue eyes boring into me
His snout as calm as a stream
His howl always heard by the moon.

Here comes my mermaid
Her scales shimmering in the sun
Her hair envied by many
Her webbed fingers aligning with mine
Her voice as soothing as the sea.

Here comes my sphinx
Her golden feathers lifted gracefully
The mother of all knowledge
Bound to be consumed by her own flames
Yet, a century she breathes.

Here comes my centuar
His other half as strong as Zeus' bolt
His human half appeals to my eyes
The four footed fellow
A creation of gods.

Here comes me
Made in the image
of the creator I feel but can't see
Admiring the mythicals I never beheld,
Only left with the tell-tales of Greece.

Through the aisle of shame
Avoiding the stares of hate
Cradled in my arms,
My object of tempted lust
With my chin held high
Victimized by my desires
Alone I suffer the wrath
Of thy shameful seed
Whom I have so pulled into this world
Not only have I offended man
But God too
Sullied is his priest who graced my bed,
But what can a lone woman do
Against the desires of the flesh?

Spoils of war and conquest
Bringer of merry and banquet
Sealer of fates
Destroyer of gates.

Makers of widows
Cause of death and pain
Hater of hopes and lover of chains
Tear us not from our pillows.

Rage of consuming fire
Death on man-made pyre
A river of blood through the drains
Washed not away by incessant rains

Sorrow and hate
Make men forever remain in toil
Death is never late
To take man back to the soil.

Narrow sea, Narrow sea,
Quite a sight to see.
Drawn ships to your depths,
Making men pay unbowed debts.

Narrow sea, Narrow sea,
A mug of salt and tea.
Filled with millions of creatures,
Which cause only pain not pleasures.

Narrow sea, Narrow sea,
Swim off shore from me.
Soak not my boots to the soles,
A bloodthirsty lust for souls.

Narrow sea, Narrow sea,
Bring to me my prince.
In vain I shred my hair,
Looking out for a familiar pair.

I crawled, I fought and clawed my way,
All I got was dirt in my nails.
Mistaken for the dead is not at all pleasant,
Just like a termite-eaten coffin for a peasant.
The putrid air caused by neighboring stench,
Never will I relent till I quench.
The vain search for clean air
Eludes me in my new lair.

She's just a sham
That imprisons hearts with such a charm
The wide brim of her hat
Veiling the poison of her heart
Dwelling in the sacredness of her pits
Makes men wallow forever in heat
Her canine obliviously invisible
Competing with her compelling principle
A short life she casts
As you sink in your past
Victimized to an end
To live side by side with the dead
Your innards as cold
Like a tombstone of old.