This was your favorite adjective
Your favorite line.
"This is perfect!" You exclaimed,
While your eyes shined.
It was perfectly subtle when we met
In a perfect evening of sorts
And yes, it was perfect too...
Though it was perfectly short.

I was looking at some photographs
When I suddenly find
Memories of you and I...
When time was once kind
When you were still mine.

I remember your perfect face,
Your perfect eyes,
Your perfect embrace
Your perfect smile.

You were perfect.

We were perfect.

What we had was perfect.

Until you left me with lies.
Then I died.

The hopeless romantic
When I say I’m a hopeless romantic, feel free to criticize, scrutinize and vandalize my words…
But remember that they are nothing compared to the intensity of my true emotions, my dear.
For this hopeless romantic feels, dreams, hopes and cares too much, too much for you.
I feel you everytime I see you, and see you even if were far away.
For distance is never measured by miles or kilometers, it can never be scored by the spacial differences between inches or light years…distance, is always dependent on how close our hearts are. And how close are we my love?
I dream of you even when I am awake, and in my dreams I clearly see you wrapped within my arms in the midst of the world’s chaos. And in spite all that, there is peace found in between our embrace. As quiet, tranquil and silent words hush our doubts and fears. For fear is captured in a prison called freedom, a freedom only found inches away from our heavy breathing.

For this hopeless romantic fears, dreads, gropes and cries too much, too much for you.

When all I ever needed was you.
When all I ever yearned for is your presence.
When all this void can only be filled with your love.
When your whisper is the only sound that catches my attention.

I buried them all...
Or so I think.
Or so I wished.
And I have left them
Half-heartedly
... Or so I say.

You visited me one night,
Oh my old friend
It was shorter than before
But my tears lasted longer than usual.

It was nice seeing you
Though this time in my dream
And it was all but a glance
Of what we used to be.

For the death of what we had
Gave you peace
And in return,
It gave me nothing but fear.

My old friend, I missed you

write me a lullaby
and sing for me tonight
sing songs about your love
tell me how its going to be alright

woo me again
whisper softly into my ear
call me again
take away all my fears

you shall halt my doubts
with your reassuring words
you shall put thine peace
you could bind my cords

and wash me away
and cleanse me anew
with your sweet perfume

so tonight i pray
let the stars shine
let the cold air breeze
for i long to rest

so please

write me a lullaby
sing them to me
for tonight my God
i want to walk in love with You

for quite some time now i have been wondering how great men would think, plan and excute things.
what i should've been focusing on is his character.
The battles he fights regularly
his emotional strenghts
his weaknesses.
for he faces them everyday, until the day that his physical body ceases to exists
yet he still remains.

what makes him strong?
though he knows that he is still weak?
though he knows that some of his decisions were fatal, to say the least...
what makes him strong enough to face tomorrow?
or to face his friends and smile?

what makes him push forward
when everything around him:
his friends, relatives, situation
is running the other way...
what makes him walk an extra step? though his kness could've given up
1000 meters ago?

what makes him tick?
is it his pure will
and guts
and instinct?
or maybe, just maybe
he has gotten used to this battle...
that his body is moving involuntarily, to do what is right in the eyes of God
so what makes him tick?

when he is down, and his heart is frail...
what makes him smile?
surely it isnt a fake one
though crying would have been the easier option...
and quitting could have been the easier way out.

how much passion does he have?
so that he could withstand the coldness of every grim
... of being alone in his decisions...
what intensifies him? is it the goal?

what makes a man?
so that he could be strong willed
enough to make sacrifes again
and again and again
that though the earth beneath him is shaking, he still stands firm

so what makes a man... to become a rightful inheritor
of this gift...
which is called "calling"?

i know, i will not age
and lose my eyesight
before i see...
truly see...
and understand
what makes a man.

i remember the first time when i first saw you
it was inside a church, when God spoke
"she will be your wife" unto my ears.

i remember the morning when we first said "i love you"
and held hands...
shaking as they were

when i saw you walking towards me
on our wedding day...
oh how i remember them well.

i remember last night
when we cuddled ourselves to sleep
whispering "i love you"
holding each other
-tightly, like there's no tomorrow
i will remember it well

and every time will i remember
our days past
and our days to come

i could never be happier, fulfilled and assured
with anyone else
i love you

I see the sky
    as empty as the sky
is the feeling I experience
everytime we say "good night" ,"God bless" and "see you tomorrow"

So empty as the night sky

I see the wind
as cold as the wind
is the feeling I get
when you and I part ways
the feeling is there everytime I turn back
and see you move away.

Like the wind that's here for a moment

we see each other not as often as we used to,
not as long as we used to,
yet... somehow we get along.

But it seems that I can't be used with the feeling
of having you for a moment
missing you through the night
and longing for you every morning
yet... somehow we get along

I love you Vanessa... in any and every aspect of you.

Then...

I remember our love,
growing like flowers,
free, as the wind, sun and moon
played with it.
as plain as a flower
as fragrant as a flower
is the love that you gave
--thank you--
you could have given me a ****,
and it would still mean the world to me


with loving thoughts of you
Chris