we're (just the same people) bathing in the same midspring darkness
consumed in the same cold and warm depth of the clashing waters
but i drowned
and deeper
i sunk
until i stopped breathing.

it took him days to realize that he was in love.

but it took her years to gain the self love she lost.

as time flew by
you captured me with your smile
ensnared me with your mind
so full of mystery
and poetry.

a galaxy of never ending chaos -
a battle between reality and fallacy.

my heart felt like it was to blow up
for everything felt like a trap.

your beauty,
it was rare
but now
all i can see
is the crisp lines of madness
left inside a nutshell
of someone who was once
as beautiful as you.

she, a noble fell in love with the piano turner's son
whose smile was as radiant as the sun.
and soon she wished that theyll fall in eachs others arms
and lie awake in the midnight sun.

he was the piano turner's son who fell in love with the duke's daughter
whose skin was akin to a porcelain doll and
whose beauty blossomed like a raging beauty of a flower
that never dulls.

they both lie awake in the blood crescent moon
waiting for each others turn
to trace every crevice of each others memories
of the love they hoped to share.

but they neither knew what was to happen
for love was there but fate wasnt aggreable
it thirsted for rage and anguish
filled with no mercy for the young lovers
for fate knew that they were nothing but fools
who wished for each others embrace
but did nothing to make it transpire.

he said this
she said that.
a string of words
made up
with no sense.

promises encrusted with
beautiful lies.

misconception
dressed as
pretty half truths
and beautiful people
disguised in monstrous
shape shifting colors.

a world where lying
is considered as honesty
and truths
as decaying deceit.

Colossal violence revels in the midst of hostility
Ingenius methods of hipocrisy roams our land
Dressed in superior clothings of mighty brands.

Nihilistic approaches for humanity's growth
Thats how things are done
As the blood red luminant shadows of the crescent moon strucked the heart of masochistic reapers of youthful innocence.

The bitterness of peace and joy did not satiate the evil's hoggish needs
So with their monstrous jaws and claws they haunted everything that screams life and hope
Until all of the land was left with little to no resemblance of what it was before
For now, the little town for which kids seek toys to play
And where adults find palpable joy in the simplicity of their humble abodes
Is now nothing but a mere reminder of how that ghost town was

Where the ugly stench of death and prejudicial entities of mankind lodges.

her touch was rough
and unforgiving.
the burn of fire
hence, the sting of ice.
a ballerina gliding along the
calloused parchment
of her journal-
and with that i knew that she was beautiful.

her soul and poetry like a fairy and his bunny
so brooding and enchanting.
she was the symbol of
melancholy and grace,
epitome of the beauty of autumn
euphoria
and chills of a cold winter night
spent in halls
with loud cheers
and lonely slumber.

a beautiful disaster, they said
lovely, i replied.

this isn't poetry
but just like poetry
it is a mix of reality
and of beauty.

this is but a question
of a teenager
seeking answers,
asking for help.

"What is your stand? Should UN State Members accept refugees? Why?"