my heartless soul wanders
and leaves the shore.
it reaches the mountains
where the sun never sets.
it hangs dead, lost amongst the stars.
trembles and falls among tree branches.
the echoes of it reach my lifeless body,
but it is too late.
it is already time,
the enigma once lost,
is the voice that lead humanity.
where are you prophet?
where is the truth?
when you are only following
what is right.

how is it that i feel this strange way, even though i choose to ignore it, to brush it aside like noise coming from a construction site.
what is this uneasiness, the shaking of my body at the hands of winter?
do i simply choose to ignore it because i consider it insignificant or is it simply that am not brave enough to face the consequences of such thoughts?
these thoughts that are harder to understand than reaching the reefs of the sea.
i occasionally let the sun burn my skin, and let the rain drench my body hoping i would find answers in suffering,
but all it has taught me is too wiser in taking decisions, as i am confronted with a cold later.
how is it that we could be like liquid, formless and shapeless, sinking deeper and understanding every molecule of our existence?
how is it that we align ourselves with the secrets we hold that we ourselves, are not even aware of?
maybe we have always been like this, forbidden from knowing some parts about ourselves.
yet we think we know the world more, when the secrets within us are lost in the dunes of the desert.
this desert doesn’t really have an oasis, because the water dried up a long time ago, when humans didn’t even begin to question themselves.
to be like liquid now, to be free and yet know our deepest selves, maybe all we need is a little rain in this desert?
but the coast is far, and the winds only carry sand silt.
i wonder if this is how a civilization dies.

when i think of it, i am all but nothing. a tiny speck of dust in this big world vying to survive. all of our deed, whether it be associated with feeling or emotions feel so incomplete. i wish our existence had more to it. when i look at the stars i feel that someone else might be looking at them too. i feel close to this person whom i do not even know. we are all mindless human beings, existential entities. maybe it is time we shed our skin thorough the leaks and cracks the universe has provided us. because we are so much more than just feelings, emotions and metaphors.

If I could tell you that everything could end right now, what would you do? If I escape this night and never come back, would you hate me for the short notice?

If I could just disappear into thin air, would you die trying to find me, or would you move on with the next season? Would you ever understand the depths of my love if I left you an envelope to tell you why I was leaving? To these questions, I can never really seem to find the answer but I hope that when this reaches you, my soul can rest at peace. For so long, in my life I have always been fascinated by the miniscule things that the people that cared for me the most became smaller in every way. Like tiny little objects you lay out on the patio. I was fortunate enough to have you in my life, but if I lose you I would never be able to forgive myself. So please, if you do not find me, don't mourn my loss. Celebrate the time we had and the moments we spent together. Open up a charity or two in my name. the answers that I could never find in my life, you have to find them for me. Please continue to look after the dogs and our children. Let them do, whatever they want in their life. Let them be free because in them, you will see me, and our love will keep on living.

because nothing lasts forever, she said.
and i didn't believe her
because i was  madly in love with her.
i was blind to see
that even stars had a lifetime.
a few sunsets later,
she wasn't there anymore
and i sat there thinking,
what had went wrong?
i realised everything was alright
even when the storms we create
end up taming us
because nothing lasts forever.

i listen to the dead bird sing,
as it lays footsteps for me to follow,
when the wind howls into my soul
i hear the whirring echo
a pregnant fear, a jitter of soul's trauma.
this is not a fairytale, it sings.
small drops of water that fall from the sky
you shall forget the wisp of rain
the touch of grass and
the breath of ocean air
you shall forget it's feeling.
if you keep listening to me, it says.
everything of warmth will evaporate.
and you'll be left with only my voice.
but i want to keep listening
to the dead bird's song.
because it is beautiful.
because it touches my soul.
And plants a seed of magical numbness
just enough to not feel everything else
that would be gone.
i want the prelude to end.
and the chorus to begin.

-arsonpoet

i want to blame her for
the wrong permutations
of time, people and events
that rattled our wan cages
i set her soul free at night
but in the process of unison,
i hit a wall flailing myself
in a well diving deep.
falling or drowning in incense.
even i do not realise.
what is the point of this?
if we have nothing but bodies left.
hearts will beat.
but souls can die.