On the dome of sunrise
I'll wake up
to the smell of home
in your drooling eyes
I'll glide my fingers
through your hair
stumble upon the perfect lips
while I scan through your face
I'll slide my toes towards your toes
to start the morning with
warms hugs and cold feet
by the bedsheet.
Before the daily morning coffee,
I'll drink you everyday,
one sip at a time,
for a lifetime.

I hide my tears in the sand
for it is the one to understand
how precious water is.
A single drop of tear is beautiful
to the sand in the desert who before
today has never had it.
It's like discovering a new object or like getting a valuable gift
it'll preserve my tear: hide it; keep it safe
for it understands the value of every tear
because water is so precious to it.
It'll cool down the moral compass of the sun
and melt the passionate chills of the desert nights
it'll preserve that tear: hide it; keep it safe
for it understands the value of it.
I will hide all of my tears in the desert sand
until the desert tastes of rivers or the sea
and ever time time a tsunami breaks out in the desert where my tears reside,
I'll know that those were the time when I let
loneliness creep inside of me
Those were the times when my valuable tears
burst open from the sand and flooded the desert because I let loneliness creep inside of me.

each second the flower shimmers a little more
shy behind the blurred lines of yellow
the luster with its flat rays of purity
strolling for a glimpse of secluded glow
this is him all raw and yellow
Do you truly see through him?
or to you, everything seems blue
this is him, withered from the petals you took
but to you, Is he any other pretty face
of which you once took a look?
each second the opaque walls silence you too
on and off; black and yellow
each blink an emotionless lust for luster
until the black snaps all of the yellow
and finally, he hides the beautiful flower
the petals of which, you once mercilessly threw!

whenever the mind whispers a mysterious tale
of waves in sunlight and oceans in lakes
whenever a burst of yellow curtains the hills
onto the warmth of the blue lights of rain
this is when a voice springs out from nothingness;
a beautiful silence; an unbroken truth
gives a purpose to life's existence
and this is when I begin to question myself
"What exactly is this existence?"
Is is the way nature constantly fills up while
I admire the growth from my loop hole of emptiness?
Or is it the manner in which I am able to foresee
all of existence yet do nothing but curl up in
a blanket of emptiness?
do I have a role to play to uplift this existence or
will I fade into nothingness?
into emptiness?
I voyaged on an endless search of fruitfulness until I saw
that whenever I picture waves in sunlight and oceans in lakes
I can add a world without a sky or any land to step,
olive green sunsets are a blessing for the hills
with the tiny drops of my minute-made purple rain
I've understood, this emptiness with this nothingness
are mine to take
they add up to make my imagination that is mine to make
This emptiness with this nothingness gives the true meaning of my existence.

they each bear a thirst that
quenches through
warm hugs besides intertwined fingers,
infinite stares with momentary misses,
sweet talks full of countless promises,
voice-message repeats over racing heart beats.
Simply two eyes that communicate in
their own galaxy of blissful bliss ;
him and her and their
eternal binding kiss.

driftwood legs found their way
into the woods of my thought
as the flames of beauty blazed
sparkles of which, my eyes caught

eyes gleaming of sapphire-like knots
frizzy hair and a bright enough smile
painting tendrils of colorful frenzy
over the black and white of my isle

folding her ember lace-up detail
her demeanour flipped seasons by
as she ran along the chilling breeze
chasing the shadows left behind

I followed her in the dead of the night
tracked her every move; left no trial by
until she paused at the edge of a cliff
before letting her forgotten arms fly

amidst the fading darkness of the night
the brief stare turned into hours of gaze
the blindfolds of lust lifted curtains of rage
for she was never on the other side of the edge

my senses condensed into clouds of sorrow
pouring into the rains of grief-filled  misery
as I realized she was just a resurfacing thought from a decade ago
finding its way back into the woods of my memory.

:                    Imperfectly perfect
the rainbow that seems a limb short without
             your colors  added to its list
your mind still unclear on what this color is;
     just like my vision in the winter mist
the next time you have a doubt on whether        
       my bland ink scribblings really exist
     Ask yourself this: Does a butterfly really
       know that it is such a beautiful beast ?