Unknown souls reside
In the most deserted places,
Such as the minds of the Parallel
And the hearts that bear the rebellion,
The agonizing shadows that stalk
Behind the familiar faces.

Where the souls whom we do not know
Find places in the garden-like Arcady,
Its rustic magnificence and endless streams.
The whitest marbles that mirror the true form
Of one's self,
The sculptures of liberty and honor,
Enchanted voices of wood nymphs
That serenade every frightened heart.

The harmonious hands clasping together,
Souls traded their bodies for a one-way ticket;
This is where the last train stops.

The mind seeks for the Parallel
When a desire craves;
It reaches down to the deepest pit
From where the tree reaches down to the lowest ground.
Should its own branches reach the tallest clouds?

Behind the rushing blood
Of spirits being awakened,
Should the deserted soul
Stride its feet in the garden of Arcady?

There he goes
scraping his last worn-out scars
gripping the tune of
his harsh breathing
could've been if he was
the brave man
he ever showed.

Harmonized with his rusty guitar
sang an unfamiliar lullaby
hummed in different tones,
as he silently uttered a profanity
and there goes him,
let out a clamor
no one will ever heed.

As his visions turned blurry,
the fussing rasps of his voice
can only be grasped
by the mist of death
and there he goes,
sang a weeping lullaby
beside him was the woman
who so abode with eternal chaos.

And then together, a wayfarer
amid the longing dawn,
the sun shall never rise again.
From the tune of the brave man,
he quieted the chattering misery of
the goddess of the night.

Tears from the mystical sky
seeped in through my shoulder—
as I let its fervor tears
dampen my lowly soul;
he said, “hear me out”

The way it moves around
sailing toward to broaden
mysterious mists—the plastic clouds
covering most of the gleam of the sun
and the way he murmurs into my ears—
I can never get out again.

While strange stares pierced through
my core—a menacing way of
forcing unraveling fragile pieces
of my silent port, and there I
let a foreign one
travel his way through—
sailing beneath my springs.

On this day of August's chilly afternoon—
while the tears of the mystical sky
tumbles through my shoulder—dripping
my cold dry bones.

The seawater's saltiness and the tears from the sky passed through my nostrils—the abiding flavor of its bitterness came to me in a halt. Its rushing waves splattered all around. My white floral dress, covered in blood—and its aroma; the aroma of my crimson blood thirst me to sip more.

“Helena, Hel- Helena!” A familiar voice lulled me to wake up. It woke me to a familiar dream I could not forget—the way it keeps pulling me back; it is my cord of weakness. Its cacophony—the reverie; is all I could remember.

A rattling noise distracted me from the trance of my thoughts—we passed by trees standing strong, winds tugging out our hairs—while there played, ‘The Ghost of You’ hang there to lull us in peace; while the quiet August's night disturbs me from within.

“Helbound Town” As we strode across the gateway sign of Helbound, the chills of the night disturbed my senses—summer is about to end, as the month of September lies beneath the thin.
An enormous ancient house welcomed us and the old graveyard greeted me, where the deceased buried me in millions of 'hellos.'

“Come on in.” My Dad yelled when he opened the door. The creaking sound creeps into my bones. As the new Blacksmith House greeted us once again with antique furniture and the aroma of its damp and mildew odor; this is the new home of the Blacksmith.

“Listen, children. All of you go to sleep, and we'll drive down the Town tomorrow.” Dad called out, and we peeped into our new rooms. I pass by my window and the faint sound of the rustling leaves caught me in a swift, “Someone is out there” I whispered and peeked into the narrow window, as I move closer—my phone rang.

“Why are you calling in the middle of the night?!” I frowned when Steph wasn't talking. It's all just jarring sounds and the hushed voices. As I was about to end it, the rustling leaves and the hissing winds startled me. “W-what is this?” I peeked again, and a shadow stalked me from behind the tall tree.

“Hello. Welcome to my territory.” The shadow revealed himself—it was a familiar face. I am sure I met him somewhere; somewhere I couldn't remember.

“Who's this?!” I hissed. The man chuckled and let out a sigh. “Your savior.” He smiled. He's only meters away from my cracked window.

“Don't joke around. You don't know who you're messing with. Also, why do you have my Friend's number?!” I shouted. I couldn't stop myself from cursing and hissing.

He's getting on my nerves.

“Come on. It's just me, don't you remember?” He asked.

“What are you talking about? I don't know you!” I was about to end the call when he threw a rock and it landed on the cracked side of my window.

“H-how dare y-you!? What are you doing? Get out!” The veins on my neck were visible when I stopped myself from screaming so loud. How could this guy!

It was the sound of his genuine laugh that buzzed my ears. It was almost a gentle whisper that hissed in the bone-chilling of the Midnight.

“Goodnight. I will see you tomorrow. They are already waiting for you, Helena.” Then he disappeared in just a swift blink of an eye. I didn't even ask for his name.

There's a part of me that longs for his embrace. A part of me that wants him to be my sanctuary.

We drove past the quiet road of Helbound and went out to see the entire part of the Town. The people welcomed us with pairs of eyes scrutinizing our every move. The children in the street stopped midway and stared at us like we are new things strode past them.

The Town that was once lively and rambling on the narrow part of town was gawking at us—there is something in their eyes that brought danger inside me. Again, a familiar sense—a hidden trance where my mind couldn't remember.

“Come here.” The woman called in a dull monotone. We ignored the pairs of every eye we meet as we enter the small gray and grim of an old restaurant.

“They are just like that when they see new people that come here.” The woman added. My Mom and Dad looked at each other and ushered my two sisters and me to come closer.

“Stay here.” My mom whispered. The woman smirked and the moment I caught her eyes, there was something in her I smell...

Fear was to be seen in her dilated pupils.

“Casper, hurry!” The woman shouted at the back of the room. And there, the guy I talked to last night was here. In front of me. “Here you are” He mouthed and smiled.

The woman then went back and in just a blink of an eye, there is blood splattered everywhere. The horror in my eyes went away and it transforms into a hungry wolf.

I can't... I can't eat them!

“Eat. Eat you witch!” The woman screamed so loud. The cacophony of the surroundings and the muffled screams of people came all in once.

What is happening? What am I? Who am I?

I let out a loud cry—enough for all to hear. Enough for all to see. Then I laughed.

You caught me there.

In just a keen move, Casper was the only one alive.

The seawater's saltiness and the tears from the sky passed through my nostrils—the abiding flavor of its bitterness came to me in a halt. Its rushing waves splattered all around. My white floral dress, covered in blood—and its aroma; the aroma of my crimson blood thirst me to sip more.

I woke up to the rushing waves and the call of the sea. Casper was here—he smiled and reached for my hands.

“I want to eat more.” I pleaded.

“There's a family that wants to adopt you. Now's the chance.” He grinned and kissed my forehead.

“They're waiting for you, Helena. Let's go to their place.” He whispered and chased on the waves. I let out a slight smile and wiped the dried drops of blood.

“I can't wait to meet them.”

The stillness
of your calm mind
as you sit down
in front of me — where the Tower
stand before us.

Silence dealt with us.

Your burning palms
faced the Sunny
time in the afternoon
of August's lively scene.

No curiosities, your suffering remained
without feelings — you were an oppressed piece
made from littered paintings.

Silence remained veiled.

The iridescent eyes
of yours
attracted me to a hall
full of covered specks of dust
like dawn without Light.

I shelved my next destination
for me to stride inside
your brown eyes — its color embraced me to another
painting — from where your field exists.

Scattered blossoms as you lay there.

I listened to you humming
the simple chorus
swung me into the Invisible Station.
The train caught me, then
in Metro — the Tower
sets against us.

No surprises, I did nothing.
The song finished his words.

You stood — left me
but your iridescent eyes
will remain.

“Silence, this is my final fit.”

I.

Sleeping Siren,
sing me to sleep
a lovely maiden
help me shift,
in my daydreams
to hear his song — that slips away from his rims.

II.

Sleeping Siren,
wake your spirit
for only your song
can force me to waltz
in his daydreams — oh, to encounter him there!
lying down beneath the
shadowy sun
created by fogs;
gentle, like a cushion!
with his lips forging into a beam
oh, to visit him, Daydreaming Siren — wake up.

III.

“Oh, to be bewitched with magic filled
with air in love so keen.
Oh, to engross with fairies
twirling like a bathe bird.
Oh, wonderful, mysterious, mythical,
I am the
Daydreaming Siren,
hiss in the Waters
for I will respond.

IV.

I let myself sink into the broad ocean
and let the coolness rub my skin
for I am about to have him
the lullaby in my trance.
I locked my eyes
as I let the fairies
tune with their uncanny wand;
“Hope so bright, give her request
feels so strong, grant her a peck
love so keen, serenade her to hallucinate.

V.

Sing me to sleep.
I will greet you in the Parallel
of my dreams bent by air
in love, so eager.
Await me there
for I will slumber a little without slowing
later I will see you
when I awake
'Tis now the time
of Spring
fare thee,
ne'er forget me.

For I will close my eyes without a slight dulling.

I.
The Angel becomes fallen
from where he spreads down
there by followed —
with soothing lullabies
in delicate light,
the Fairy appears.

II.
He arouses to the music
of her wings —
the myth
gains to life.
The Boy blinked twice
from where he lingers down,
there the Fairy appears.

III.
The rush of waters
calm the essence of the Boy
when the Fairy extended her grip,
he thus was lured
into enchantment —
the particular illusion
he was keen to understand.

IV.
Chirping birds,
rattling noise
squirrels chattering —
the refrain sounded
in the mind
when the rapidness
of one's way of heart-beat's
tingle from within.

V.
Into one's perceiving
from where he flew all over the place
in the grips of a fairy,
as she bears power,
wreak havoc,
so that the tale alone lies
in books:
to be learned by children.

VI.
Until he who belongs to
melted ashes
of charisma and grace —
again he greets her
the winged melody
buzz in his tastes
a shooting star
hanging upon an idle request
from where he emits
his longing voice,
there the Fairy appears.

VII.
The Angel becomes settled
the Fairy comes,
in the stream where they clash
as the sky bore his pining,
the illusion appeared to life.