///
I have left my known path
that is only for mine
where there is my love
there are too many dreams
but I have to go
and I am going,
going towards the new destiny

I am handed over
all my dreams to you,
my love
my undone jobs to you
cause you have dreamed me again
when I have almost forgotten my dreams

Even when I am going,
where there I am bound to go,
going to far away from my dreams
far away from you,
my love

I know it will not create a wall
between my will and my dreams
between you and me
I am tired too tired to think
about those dialectics thoughts

I know you love me more
than as much as I love you
I have left my love for you
and I think you will keep it
as it's yours only for yours

I am going,
where there I am bound to go
going to far away from my dreams
far away from you,
my love

But one day I will return
return as air and will be blown
through your long hair
blown as the murmur of wind
through the fairy Autumn

I will return as the morning robin
and will be playing with you,
beside your window
you will be awaken
with my song of spring
and I will see your eyes,
your lips, your smiles
those will be remain same
as I ever wish to claim
and I will wish to return
my love again from you,
my love--

He is just a simple man
but full of wisdom and honor
She is just an ordinary woman
but full of love and candor

He comes like the light rain
so sweet to the soul
When she smiles to hide the pain
He heals it up all

He talks with so much insights
like a book that she reads
His words come like sunlight
in her world that she needs

He dreams of his light forever
She wishes for hers to come true
They hope they could be together
to finally say "I do".

She's so fragile like a flower
So I am careful not to hurt her
She has nothing like thorn or spine
I love and adore her forever

She's so beautiful like a flower
And I always admire her beauty
She's my inspiration and strength
Someone who sees the best in me

She's so lovable like a flower
Not only because she is pretty
But because she has a good heart
Like a flower,  she's perfect for me.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

I survive, I strive, I sacrifice, I strengthen
I live, I lie, I let down, I learn
I differentiate, I decide, I demand, I deduce
I respect, I revive, I redefine, I redesign
I am, I analyze, I articulate, I anticipate
I conquer, I condescend, I confine, I cultivate
I improvise, I initiate, I inspire, I invent
I grieve, I gather, I grumble, I grapple with my inner demons
My life in a few words, nothing I can't overcome or handle
because I am who I am, don't matter what people think of me.

She cries late
                  every night
     Turns off all the
                           lights
         Sits in bed
bawls
             her eyes out
      in the dark
Cutting out pieces
      of her heart
No one can see
                          the scars
           of her sewing
back up her chest
       Soon she will be
             an empty shell
        Hopefully
                    putting her soul to rest
If her heart
                    is no longer there
It can't get broken,
              right?
If no one can see
                          the tears
Then she never cried,
                     right?

There maybe many ways
to express feelings
but the only way I know
is through the words
that I compose
pen, on paper
a heart is content
with poetry

The bath water
is the colour of my eyes;
yet, I don't know
which is wetter.