Potentials are nothing more
than dormant seeds lying
underground.
As good as dead.
Until you plough the soil
and sow the seeds waiting
patiently.
For years ahead
It’ll thrive and grow
and grow and thrive
flamboyant sashays
called
abilities.

If only there are Angels and Demons, Heaven and Hell.
Life and Death; Light and Dark,
Good and Evil ; War and Peace,
Prey and the Predator,
Lion and the Lamb
And Alas!
They exist not
as enemies but
to fall in love
with no one else but
Each Other.

At the End of the Day,
There is no Right and Wrong.
Good and Evil.
Black and White.
Like the Wind and Dust
Are all but spectrum of
where we stand.
They never exist.
And never will.
In the midst of sawdust
Meteors and stars.
Ashes and ember.
Burning borders in
a deafening screech.
The one and only truth
lies in haunting finality.
Only gaining and losing.
Culprits made accomplice.
And in evil they resurrect.
Only winning and losing.
The winner takes all.
At the end of the day.

Once upon a time,
I was okay.
I was well.
I was happy.
I was hopeful.
I was full of life.
And a ball of fire.
Scorching in flames.
With eyes that burns.
A gaze that helds such
unyielding intensity.
Drilling holes into your soul,
like amber.
I used to talk
with sizzling wonder.
And I loved to listen
to your hearty confessions.
Often in the dark,
you cried and I cooed.
I was your shoulder to lean on.
I used to love it too.

Now I'm just breaking.
Pieces by pieces.
You may not know
how I wish you wouldn't.
I asked for oblivion.
I am
cloaked in the dark knowing
I have
sipped into the shadows.
I've succumbed to my fate.
Condemned and stuck
yet no longer scared.
Enclosed by the voices
in my bitter sweet prison.

You cannot break down.
When everyone else is expecting you.
You cannot break down,
When someone else is relying on you.
You cannot break down,
When there are those dependent on your
thoughts.
You cannot break down.
When you're a role model
to someone so young.
You cannot break down or you will break
his future.
No selfishness can explain what
atrocity it is.
But I cannot hold back any
more any
longer.
Time shall bleed me out I can tell
where I burn bridges
along
with all your pleas
demanding more.

Sipping
on my cup of tea.
Down it travels.
Clear and smooth it
slips as I swallow.
Chilling
coolness strokes
like beads of diamonds
down my throat.
Flavour blossoming.
Morphing hollow.
Unlike water with such
lucid simplicity.
Light shaded fragrance
of flattered flowery.
A twinge of texture
silky and sleek,
coaxes your mind.
Distinct yet tasted
so gentle and meek.
Unlike coffee it
does not choke.
Nor fattening like
lattes, sodas and cokes.
Now here comes the part
I loved most.
Its aftertaste that lingers
bleak, bitter and cold.

Just like my soul.

Everything is sad
if you want it to be.
Life is sad.
Living is sad.
Feeling is sad.
Hearing,
hoping,
all that you seek.
Deep down you know
is already dead.
People are sad.
Our fate is sad.
But it is not set.
It's only true
if you believe in that.