I laughed,
Handing him the bottle of *****,
"Here's your liberator"

Trees are often more solum than humans,
Their roots deep within the earth,
Yet they leave with the sudden breeze,
Nothing can make them stay,
They bend, but not break,
Are not swayed by the human race,
Trees are my elders,
Mother,
Father,
Brother,
They see the world through different eyes,
Look,
I use to dance for them,
Bare feet on solid ground,
The wind the only instrument,
Me and the Tree's only sound,
We'd have great times,
Until you chopped them down,
Mother,
Father,
Brother,
No where to be found,
You gave me this wasteland full of useless things,
When I walk across the concrete,
I feel their hallow screams,
Buried beneath the pavement a couple feet down,
Your wonderland of useless things,
In this pointless town,
The wind still calls for its lovers,
No longer intertwined at night,
He bounces off buildings ,
Frightening little kids,
There's no such thing as love,
Just axes and fire

Today I decided to forgive myself
for everythings I am not,
for everything I am.

I have lived this lie
for so long I have forgotten
the person who lays behind it.

Tonight, I will pile every ounce of regret,
every pound of hate in the back yard.
Then like a conquered city, I will set it ablaze.

This conflagration will be a
symbol of my self revolution
against everything that says “You can’t”.

Today, for the first time in, a long time
I will say “I can” over and over
till I start to believe it.

Along the road,
I see souls,
passing by,
with fainted hearts,
or glowing light,

Along the road,
I start to wonder,
ponder deeper,
What makes a soul?

Along the road,
And years of searching,
I only find,
Heart,
Is the answer.

Sometimes we fall in love with the dark
and I of all people, know this best.
Sometimes we are too broken to
be healed by anything this world has to offer.
I have read this story a thousand times.

When I was 17 I learnt at 2 am
when you are not yet asleep,
and the voices have been
screaming inside of you for hours
your only friend is the darkness that surrounds you.

When her hand fits so perfectly within yours
how can you asked for a better lover?
She has always been there for you,
even when the rest of the word left
and you didn’t know, if you will see tomorrow.

And there has been so many days were
I didn’t know if I would ever see tomorrow.
Still early in the morning she has always
called me back before the sun as risen.
I have always came back.

When the white bird flies,

the sky catches on fire.

Then the fire bleeds to the village

and the village burns.



Do not be mistaken,

this is how you catch the bad guys.

We must catch the bad guys.

Don’t you know?



When the white bird flies,

she purifies in flame.

Replaces evil with ash

and ash cannot stop the oil flow.



But wait, there was a mistake.

backspace, backspace.

Control alt delete.

It is too late, the sky already burns.



And when the sky burns,

so does the village.

These were children,

Where were the bad guys?



When the white bird fails

It flies a thousand homes to its mother.

“We will try again, tomorrow,” she says

and then she turns the screen black.



Still the village burns

and children become orphans,

but the oils keeps flowing,

it always keeps flowing.