The night was young, and the fortress gates opened.

Rams ready to unleash, and the beast roared.

The inner demons woke, and the fiery fire ablaze.

The monster ran to the outer keep door, and seek the blood it had sensed.

Sheeps butchered by the wolf,
And white flags raised to surrender.

Nothing was unscathed, and her temple trampled to the crumbling sands.

It was not enough for her thirst, and she asked not for mercy, but more of her to conquer.

Retinues of scholars and sages,
United in ages of our personal cages.

Desire to eclipse our wages linked in our pages, but always looking our worth in numerical gauges.

Truly the painful retrospect quantified aroma that arousal the mind in spiral, and the very essense of black hole is true chaos in it's definition of creation in us.

As I stand to breathe for a moment, I look to see that it haven't even been started, and what little  composure that exist in me dissipated the foundation of a cup that cracked.

Gaspe to grasp that it is ticking, and the sensation of lagging is more apparent with each passing day.

Maybe if I close my eyes, maybe I can rejuvenate to start again, or wake from this dream.

With our eyes open from birth,
We allow our stimulus to quench our progress

With our eyes closed,
We shall meet together in the other side of the abyss.

Leaves wisked away by the continuum breeze,
The finite beats echo upon the heart at ease.

The dawn of red hug the sky as the radiance flees,
Putting the summer to surrender on it's knees.

As falls sneaks like a clock work continuum into new millemmium with peace,
Just as symphony has beginning and end of finite notes tease upon the climatic narrative completely seize.

Yearn upon the taste of desire unquenched by sorrow and depair of pandora's forbidden keys,
As the night sky sings the lullabies goodnight and farewell with it's closing chess piece.

This is the feel the tasteless deconstruction of an empty cup of a soul continuum lease,
And as all things end with unfinished books by finite time gaze on horizan of the infinite seas.

To those who have an estranged parents would not need an introduction,
And those of you who have the gaping wounds would only be christened in self propelled justification,
But any of us in these journeys like all adventures do come to a close.

Proving to everyone your ways are correct,
Or dismiss the very thought you been wrong,
And all finales the conclusions the end is not all we may seem to understand.

No one will know the inner conflict that stirs all emotions into ejected unspeakable anger,
And no self righteous religious leaders would know how to quell the demon shadowed in your best illumination.

For all things are never bygones,
And patriarchs or matriarchs are but a human beings with chipped characters,
But no amount of apologies would dismiss their old follies.

Then the sands come to claim us, breathlessness plunged into a moment of silence,
And all solice come to a halt with all whispers sieze.  

The person you feared all your life has become pale,
Body mass and muscles have left them,
While the frail body yielded them a hunched postures.

No matter the prospect you will not be fooled by their weakness,
Nor will you show sympathy to their coming times,
And all senses of love have been depleted bone dry.

No one can tell you "You are wrong,"
Because no one has dealt with your past,
And the world must shut their mouth.

That was about a 6 month ago,
To some it would take longer,
And others there would be no second thought.


Sometimes deepen pain can never be healed,
And those of you who took the picture of the frail parent in the hospital can't deny your feelings,
As you look at the healthy picture against the dying parents you have made up your mind.

The breath is asunder as the lungs clinge to what little air to grasp,
But those of you who choose to make peace and see the dying person one last time is a better person then I,
For not all of us can forgive and forget.

As stars break into particle,
It's pulled by gravitaional circle.

As human voyage traced by it's chronicle,
The radical ideals etched in scientific article.

We are but the dust particle,
Beings stand verticle.

The true crucible blinded by our opitcal,
Our division of color and race is cortical.

For we are the same particle,
The starchild of miracle.

The perpetual strength lies not with the control of currents,
But by those who flow with the tide,
And with it understanding the nature that binds us all.

Dimension beginning of vile ****** exposed,
And the Emperor has no clothes,
While helplessly strut a mighty walk without a shame.

Course of history repeating itself,
Like the flow of water meeting in the river of streams,
But recycle through the clouds and back to the ground it flows.

Are we so blinded by the glimmer of the mirage of oasis in the desert,
We toast with sands of dune to quench our thirst of our plight,
And all is but a fickling light ducktaped by words of unintelligible muddled murmur?

This is truly the flawed design of our time,
When we no longer promote arts and crafts of philosophies,
And religious cults of zealots condemned the science and Academia by berating it's achievement.

Likes of ancient times of Agora and the height of it's human enlightenment,
There are forces of deconstruction of society of choas ensued by hateful fear mongers,
And systematic inward of national fevor of berserkers leveling progress.

Maybe another dark age is inevitable,
But little seed of hope I feel tangible,
And sometimes event maybe a phoenix.

The heavens stood in blue,
Just as water mirrors it's hue,
And ocean dawn reflects the sky anew.

Time and stars light the darken space,
As if catching illumination with our pace,
But hands reach out to finish the race.

Race without a face in the life of maze,
Remembering the face upon your gaze,
A sincere warm smile that would haze.

Heart's tug of war,
The unspoken lore,
And it's forgotten core.

Yearning for two voices to weld
In solidarity beats would of held,
And united minds would meld.

The one way ticket always looking back,
But struggles to find the words to pack,
And in honest words it seems to lack.

Trying to piece every sense
Why miss your presence,
Trying to understand your essence.

Hands stretched,
Mind etched,
I seek only upon thee.

Ladies help define men to stride to be better,
And us men without our equal are prisoned in a soundless white room,
With sensation and voices dulled by empty cup.

The walk without the need to go places,
And the time stopped without her presence,
While searching for something tangible to grasp.

We men are mortified walkers,
Without a purpose or cause,
And lambs of the butchery robbed of shepherds.

We need our guidance,
Soul stone of our pathway.

The woman of our lives are our equal,
The voices where men can have sanctuary,
Our inner solidarity and piece of solice.

They are our inner home,
Our kingdom of fortitude,
The fortress of our essence.

Seep upon the illusion of vanity,
As your true morality contested.

While all things fall asunder,
None reach perfect atonement.

Such struggle is but divinity of being human,
The tested fallacy in full glory.

In those imperfection lies heart of human kind,
And ridged expectation flow with the wind,
For all things do come to an end.

That precious moments define us,
And our flaws prescribe to center of universe,
For night sky are basked by infinite wisdom.

All things are illumination of life,
And there are no regrets,
But lost ether alone amongst the serenity of celestial plane.

A day where we lose people less,
Living life with spirit and careless.

Is 2016 truly the year most of us became restless,
Because we got the leader of hopeless?

Death of Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynold equated to year of relentless,
The fall of humanity and all that is good make us sleepless?

Stand before us that life has never been anything but senseless,
All action comes with reaction and all things are current living breathless.

Let us not forget to mourn for our past seamless of timeless,
but let us not dwell in sorrow and agony drunk hopeless or reckless.

Lets grasp life with fearless,
And accept the moment with purest act of passion celebrate life as life and time will come with to eventual lifeless,
While cherish moments as each moments is an another bliss of bless.

As the monotone of the tick comes to a halt,
The inner sense calm the nerves to numb,
And the impulses desire grasp more stimulus.

This is the very senses that one endure,
When being with people feel more alone,
And friends feel more distant than strangers.

As if drowning in the ocean sea,
And the surrounding feel like the vast night skies,
While lost in the dank forest search for singular moment.

Just know you are not alone,
But by mutual experience of empty space,
We share the common rhythm to recognize melody.

The Artisan tongue and Linguistic,
Likes of the melted cheese upon the mouth,
And the gift of tamoto soup in winter tundra.

Those are the gift that I seek upon,
As an indentured servant looking upon the wonders of aurora boreal,
Or a spiritless soul seeking to quench the inner fiber meld with ether.

Dream seeker with nothing to stand,
A adventurer without a quest,
Or the rebel without a cause.

Those days are but a distant past,
Forgotten murmur of mythic dreams,
As radiance dawn from each breath.

Come upon the golden kingdom,
And seek prize upon the window of glory,
While never stand in comfort of being normalized.

The suburban curse of procrastination,
The comfort of daydream,
The arrogant silence of enact.

The desire to seek greatness entwined with destiny,
Perpetual confidence grasp the very breath of existence,
And one would crawl out from nothing.

I breathe to be something,
And seek everything,
To avoid being nothing.

For seekers desire,
And desire seek every essence of breath another day to be all things.

What is this movements to the notes and rhythms,
The breath that breathe life it's essense of eternal ether?

Mourn to moan the formulation of birth to ****** propatuate procreation and then to final destination, cycling the very foundation of life, rebirth, and death in sound that carry over from one another.

Music preformed by guitar, violin, base, cello to piano, or any of the string instruments that symbol the living life strand of the life we wheel.

As our longevity is finite, but with infinite choices to play with strings until our lines are cut or break, and no longer play the songs we so love to hear so dear to our ears.

For a beat that tinker to our muse to the music that linger in the faint of our memories, those memories we try to keep close to our soft pillow and tucked away in our minds to comfort us in our less then pleasant boundaries leaving us empty, like a good age wine to lets us dream.

The empty cups shall be the reminder that sound and tone shall sieze to calm with stringless nights, the song has sang the final tune and forever leave it's mark on the heart good night.  

Until that final symphony reaches it final tune, accept the notes as it is a song we live in a moment, for all music good and bad has it's epilogue.

One must choose to play their music, and find their final notes to end their master piece in due time.

Strange how 28 years of life I have lived in Minnesota felt so foreign as I delve around the city, but feeling bitter sweet knowing I will be going back to Kentucky tomorrow.  

I definitely have not missed Minnesota fall with drizzling rain, and the cold air that overwhelm the city, but the city lights are hopping as usual.

How I missed the cultural buildings, and the fashion that truly define Minnesota, but saddening to have missed the art museums or theaters.

As of late it seems family gathering is what binds me to this place, and even though I have lost all senses or care for him, watching him in his weak state makes me vulnerable.  I hate feeling weak, or having no control over my emotional state. While I have kept positive reinforcement with my oldman's prospect, deep down I felt uncomfortable about the surrounding.

In all retrospect however it was good to see relatives and friends, and I wish I could have prolonged my visit for another week to catch up with people I've missed, but my life in Kentucky have been written in stone. Only vacation or family duty would allow me to leave Kentucky, and it seems it is another good bye for now.

Take good care Minnesota, and hope to see you again.

Mary Jane moving her hips
Upon my reach in finger tips,
As I put the green grass on my lips.

Fell by the ditch,
Puffing those skunks,
And ride those green dragons high above.

Baby, boom, dare I dream,
Baby, boom, haze and cream,
Baby, boom, scent of *** steam.

Tasty herbs hunger play,
Those roots ****** all day,
Let me pay and sleep or lay.

For this is why I obey,
To have you on my finger tips,
And taste you on my very lips.

As the blue pupils linger,
While the lips press upon the lips.

Lean forward for an embrace,
And sound turns to beats.

As the moon glistened,
So the silent stars listened,

The ocean waves clashed,
While it rippled back and dashed.

Back to the ocean it sprung
Pulled together it longed.

The wind had light caressed,
Upon the finger tips pressed.

The light house spun,
And all lights were on,
The glistened lights listened,
As the hearts raced,
And the moon embraced.

It was the sun light anew.

As winter bids to summer, spring renews with vigor.

As summer bows to winter, prologue of fall ensues.

As the daily night sky illuminates less, so to our welcoming days sooner to good night.

The leaves are dispersed by the coming wind, and the frost seem to say hello in dawn, it is a day to say farewell to the beloved warmth sooner than later.

Why is it so hard to say goodbye, and see you again next year?

Cross roads within our pathways,
As our minds flock to our own rhythms.

Likes of individual galaxy compounded,
And formulated into a personal chemistry.

Truth of stars perflexed by undiscovered universe,
And each stars collide in the void vexed with uncontrolled momentum.

Yet there are the singlular truth in all chaos,
And the relentless ether split to the vastness of space,
Like calm ocean that allow our solice.

Those days are but a yonder,
As we ponder upon the yearning impulses.

In the stillness of a full cup of water without a pin drop,
And with inner thoughts still hunger,
But still reach the vestige garden alone.

Vintage of souls forgotten in our hearts,
And shattered beats asunder murmur in tranquility.

As perpatual ideals die in the burning stars,
We are in space alone in dreams.

No longer a thought of discord,
nor any dissidents displayed,
But maybe that was an act of love unspoken.

Ambient voices lurk upon the tip of the ears,
As the ruffling of the leaves become faint and dull!

Shaken by those voices clamor your essense to a vilified characters,
And those sound intensified by the roaring thunder they seem to pound like war drums.

As the heavens shed it's tears to calm all senses to a full moon,
One can only indulge in the simple act of nature to light sound of rain drops to sleep.

Do we become the persona others echo,
And does one escape to runaway from energy of darkness?

It is a destined war to meet the oppositioned in battlefield,
And then you ask yourself if you are the truthful conviction of good?

The innocence isn't so much the victor of the scenario,
But the reflective nature to do the right things.

Those loud voices spilled the vile tongue of characters uncleansed,
And the dirt seem to gravitate the bubble you once protected your essense.

You try to rub off the dead skin that sicken your persona,
But seemed fatal attraction and unwelcomed maul of voices protrude.

Tremored hands can't seem to stop,
But the heart had seized it's pulse,
And looked to the self in the mirror no more.

Gasp to get some air in the drowning ocean,
As the weight of the back become stronger,
And reach out the arm to brace upon the nearest shore.

Everything must stay silent,
And then ask am I good enough?

The eternal struggle to find the person on the lake is a journey,
But one can't runaway forever from their own shadow,
Because the shadow will follow you for good.

Once you realize the reflection is your's
It is too silly to have ever feared it.

Glistening eyes among the stars,
Hidden in the pupil all those scars.

Not a word in their coming end,
Stand by them like a friend.

Numbed by death as eyes fade away,
Grim reaper calls we obey.

Residents smile come to their death call
As their time fade like leaves in fall.

Truly all life lead to the silent tone,
And leave with human decency alone.

I hated you so much for making me your slave,
Stoled everything I had from me.
You made our family life miserable,
And I blame you for my mother's death.

Now you are in the death bed,
And am I suppose to feel for you?

You would think I would feel certain level of sympathy to your current circumstance, but I feel numbness in this endeavor.

You think I would feel at least an empathy,
But your diabetes got the best of you,
Because you never listened to the warnings.

I feel this coldness in me like the Minnesota winter,
And I thought I would never have to go back.

Do you want me to ask for your forgiveness oldman?

I have no desire to go to Minnesota for you,
And whatever is left of your son died in me.

What the hell am I suppose to feel?

Frost and haze permeate as the sun light glisten less day by day,
And like a new born yet to birth bundled  in a mink blanket,
While deepen in sleep in the chasm of solice.

Like the groggy wake come with mutter,
As the eyes seem to squint from a dead sleep,
While the day seem muggy to comprehend any intelligible or coherent thoughts.

A simple touch of the silk bed sheet softened the weight of cold harsh winter,
But reminded by the eternal time that won't wait for your slumber,
And at last one must wake to annoying alarm.

Maybe if one would ease their legs out from the blanket,
Then it should be easy to move forward to another day?

Taking a deep breath as the eyes lock onto the clock,
One leg inch away from the comfort of the warmth,
One muster enough strength to move forward.

It's the breeze with unforgiving chill felt through the legs,
And then onto the spine quiver this uncontrollable shake!

"Just five more minutes,"
as the eyes shut for another slumber,
And bundled in the mink blanket to have another epic journey into the dream world.

It is the ink propelled with mold and feces,
And the grandeur of dogma littered with arrogance.

The persistent deconstruction of ideals covered with dust,
and yet it screams openly to the audience of deaf.

Forbidding irk come with forbidden shadows beyond it's own screech,
And the scatching of the chalkboard has friendlier tone than unoriginal scribes of embellishments.

The act of taken lives from people who do not deverse your pardon need not be your tropies,
For those actions of hate deserve no love or pity.

For this is the land of united people of places and hope,
For you can not divide us with words,
Or sword upon freedom.

The vigilant light shall warm us,
Your hate will only fuel us,
You shall never silence us.

For we shall live for the dead,
And their memories will not be forgotten.

We will defeat your hate with our compassion,
And we will prevail where you so sought to undo,
For love will defeat your prideful destruction.

Say good bye to your yesterday,
For no song of your will be heard but in the mist of ocean,
And our choir will muddle your preformance.

For your last act stood as an epilogue,
And ours has become the prologue.

Have you truly succeeded?

I think our cheers shall resonate the true answer.

Needing to pull some cold hard cash at the atm,  I gave a cold glare at the homeless man sitting on the floor by the gas station outside near the entry way holding a sign.

Not out of hate or anger, but curious as to what he asked for on the sign he held, because I did not want him to know I had any compassion to a fellow humam being.

After pulling some money to leave the gas station premise, I  glared at the homeless man holding up the sign once again, but this time squared on the eyes, and then asked him what was the sign for.

"I'm looking to hitch a ride from Louisville to Lexington Kentucky, and then to Pennsylvania."

Still glaring at him with judging eyes, and wanted to hear the man talk. I proceeded to ask him.

"Is that all you are asking, nothing else?"

Giving me a desperate glare.
"Well, if cash, or anything will do, and if I was going to use it on alcohol, i'll generally tell people ill use it for that.

Became more curious I asked him if he had a meal yet?

He then nodded yes and he was okay.

I then gave him a smile and handed him a Alexander Hamilton. The homeless man thank me and promised he wouldn't use it for alcohal.  

I told him "do as you like, I will not judge you!"

There is such a thing as love that require nothing, and expect nothing from a fellow human being. While I had no intention of judging the man, I had to be reserved in my curiosity, and I will not be a sucker to the people who abuse the system.

While the glare was unnecessary, I did not want to show my compassionate face that may have given the homeless man any teleprompting of my weakness to hear a sob stories, which I am a sucker to!

It was not my place to judge the man,
I been to rock hard bottom myself,
and some times give little isn't so bad!

Cradle upon the spooned arms,
And the sunken fetus lay at ease.

As the night sky yield a breeze,
And the illumination of dawn woken by the alarms.

Serendipitous actions peak with charms,
And all things calm to a breathless sieze.

The presence brought myself to a knelted knees,
For the shimmering fire showed no harm.

We can only glisten by the laughter it gimmer that all things are going to be okay!

Mere hollow flesh in time exposed in six feet under,
But with every ounce with will and strides can we make a dent in this plain.

The night seeped with fog and haze,
As the bloom of darkness smothered in icy breeze chilled within the spine.

The night shall kneel before the coming dawn, for the stroke of rumbling and the tremor verbatim the heart asunder.

The silent roses scream from inner chamber kept in a personal vault, while I try to remember the tune that once allowed me to become a fluid.

I shall keep those brilliant nights tucked away at the edge of the earth, because not all was a bad experience meant to be dispersed, but cherished like a torch in a fog and haze.

For I know dawn shall lit the night anew,
And left by the spirit of moments unraveled.

Structures of organizations with rules and standards,
So what is this world that offer a simple touch,
Or embrace with sensibilities of our inner desires.

A joke this life can be,
And laughter of echoed eternality,
Inner grasp by a tug upon our hearts.

These laws that we follow with honor,
Ripped by the people who architected and dismissed,
Or disowned by the powers that may be.

Do they not keep their words they utter,
And do they have no chivalry or honor left,
For all is a voice with empty shell in the dark.

All things in life is but a ghastly shadow,
But your inner truth will be your lighthouse!

Coming from nobody,
I was but an afraid little boy.

Ambition or desire meant nothing to me,
And like a mouse I hid in my little corner.

Anger and torment embedded,
While lashing out at the weakest things.

In my youth I was an afraid little boy,
But my deepest desire was to express.

When you express your thoughts,
You can free yourself from torment.

With words meld with your purest thoughts,
and exposing yourself help break away from individual personal chain,

Truly those who can look at their weakness,
They can break away from their fears,
And loving one self is the first step in healing.

My empty ambition became thirsty,
And then the emptiness became desire.

I dared ambition to consume me,
And desire to take me with vengence.
No longer that little boy afraid.

See I was never free however,
Because being Korean meant family first,
But if the king was a fool?

What is love?
Better yet what is living?

Is it true vile, greedy, arrogant people live on,
But those innocence is the very first casualty?

I could not be afraid little boy no longer,
I must become a man with his dreams,
And hunger to want everything.

When I moved from Minnesota to Kentucky,
I knew no one, and had any clear vision.

I just knew if I restarted fresh from where I stood, life would open up for my conquest to reach my goals.

So here I stand in my kingdom, with fortress in developement,
For now I am the Lord of my initial dream.

All abroad to this transit express 1337
The top of the one percent deviation to the rest.

Like those of the first class in air lines,
And us in the back seat separated into middle and less.

Throwing crumbs at us to divide amongst us,
While we oblige by bicker and fight with cuss.

It is their "Monoply" game we are playing,
But it is our pieces in "Risk" we are laying.

I say we must stop our own conflicts,
And don't let them take away our game of "Life,"
But stand together in this transit in locomotion.

When it is the worker bees who hold up the top floor,
And without us holding the pedestal the "Jenga" shall fall.

Don't let them divide us,
But once we stand together nothing can stop us,

In unity we shall be strong,
But divided we shall fall.

Stand up, and find commonality,
Then and only then can we have little more pie for the rest of us.

When the ocean wave strikes against the beaches in the fullmoon,
All of it's essence shattered to molecules into the thin air,
And our pores drink from it's mother nature's ether!

It's this resonation of nurture breathe fire within our breath,
And sense of moments come into a perfect circle of the celestial.

It's this ism of schism,
And lost in racism with perpetuated choatic cataclysm.

This fixation with complication,
And devotion to destruction.

Lines of grape vine leading to purely deluded wine,
What was devine shine left in oh so decline of our prime.

This determination to provocation,
With invocation to division.

Stuck in the darkness becoming blind,
So **** blind by our hate filthy grime of our sinful crime.

It is our limitation to our self infliction,
For all action comes with reaction.

Time and time again feast dine not knowing our fine line,
To define what is right of mine,
this line this line pathway to beyonder.

To build this rotten fruition,
It is but infliction leading to degregation.

What is this demoralizing scene, hatred, digression of the old days displayed among our mist?

He stood on the "Endless Bridge" in Guthrie Theater,
And looked onward at the old abandon mill district of Minneapolis.

The crescent moon ascended to the glimmer of the city lights
As the nature of the wind pulled his hair back to shed his hidden soul.

The Mississippi River clash against the pavements of the dam,
And the moist from the river felt through the air on the pours of the skin.

Neon lights of the 35W reminded the contemporary architect of modern city,
But the old mill district had it's ever so present among the modern buildings.

In that silence she walked down the aisle from the theater entry onto the balcony,
The silent graceful walk even in heels like a prey of the jungle,
There she stood next to him to reach her arm around his.

He glanced onto her face matching his eyes to her's,
And she pulled the most warm honest smile of innocence.

Upon his gaze upon her dark glistened navy blue dress,
With golden neckless he gave her as their anniversary gift,
And pearl earring illuminated the moon light of nightly beauty.

"You look majestic," barely able to mutter as he faced her side by side,
And his back against the solid balcony wall.

Sanity seem to depart like leaves in fall,
And minds focus to mirages in sandy dune.

This world I so sought to grasp further seem so intangible,
Like clouds and mist or virtual world of synthetic environment.

We are so plagued by this none organic material,
I wonder if everything is just me floating in a nightmare.

Pinch me so I can wake up,
So I can regain true senses and essence of reality.

Am I alone in this controlled rat maze,
Or are we truly in the matrix?

I want to see beyond,
And go places of excitement.

Where reality is a dream,
With desires and humanity come into a realm of consciousness.

For this is a nightmare,
I just want to wake up.

I ask for freedom,
Freedom to release this weight.

The weight of this world is lifted
Lifted like a feather.

Feather moved by the wind,
My wind that shall carry me.

Me to you the eternal slumber,
Slumber as brown shape shift zip...zip

Zipper do da day.....
Day of the day day yay day yay daze

Dance sundance film
Errrr.... Away... Yay day yay day away daze.

Ablaze in a maze phase away in a daze,
In this ways,
it pays to gaze.

Praise with the ways,
Are you still reading this?

Stop.... Now!

I mean now...

You don't need to read any further.

Because you are finished right now!

Hold on to my palm,
And I'll sing you a warm psalm.

Take you away from the judging eyes,
And clear you from those painful cries.

My dear you have harnessed the majesty of perfect smile,
But your agony you carry can be seen from more than a mile.

Let me lift you up upon the air,
And soar upon the sky like doves in pair.

Let me shelter you from this unforgiving wind,
And embrace the stars together to our final end.

In mean time hold on to my palm for a voyage.
Because I want to share with you a time less age.

It's a tinder place of ether spread across the astral plain,
And the soft ember cinder caress upon the air.
Celestial purple and orange embraces the sky with love,
While the tones and hum cease by the roar of the deep blue beneath.
This is the taste of your essence I long to capture with my soul,
As the blight of solstice immerse like the darkness of hallow whisper.
I seek upon your Amber of your heart to melt this frozen maelstrom red,
And quench the unending thirst that beckon us both to our beats anew!

My past time is Warhammer 40k
Collected 12 separate army ranging from 10,000 point to couple hundred.
My personal faction is craft world Eldar,
Since they are space elves of the dying race,
Prideful, arrogant, know it all, psyker gifted, prudes of 41 millienium.
Play with twelve Wraith Knights,
And earning me as "That Guy,"
As known as cheesy player,
Or just a solid Gould cheese.

I am inspired by Marcus Aurelius
Known as the philosophical emperor,
Also known as the last true good emperor of Rome,
Loved by many by the empire,
My favorite quote by him
"Accept the things fate binds you,
And love the people whom fate brings you together,
But do so with all your heart!"

I am a Capricorn,
Driven by amethyst gem stones,
Or a pure ruby so they say!
I have not had the same gravitational pull like Joan Of Arc,
Nor have I become a champion like Mohammad Ali,
Or fought for civil liberty like Martin Luther King,
Or earned the legacy likes of Humphrey Bogart,
But I would do my best to carry even ounce of their torch of greatness.

Step forward,
turn your front leg backward.
Spin into round kick inward.

Must be like a cowboy
Korean versions of a bad boy
Hidden skill shown with a coy

Jump spin into 360 kicks,
By breaking those sticks,
Then onto those bricks.

Further test your skill with an opponents,
Becoming strategic with your movements,
Bashing their heads against your martial improvements.

Taste your first defeat,
Your blood upon your lips,
Spilling from your head.

Move forward,
Onward,
Aim toward victory from inward.

For defeat is not an option,
Winning is the true completion,
Because being number one is accomplishment.

So why are you laying on your own puddle of blood,
Defeated like a soak dog,
Get up and fight!

Circumference of x to z axis has many ys in between,
And as such the path to ether and true balance is a hidden roads ahead!

Does the light in the fogged snowy forest shed a dimmed light,
Or is it the taste of final destination that's much closer to our lungs?

For every action has a reaction so said sir Issac Newton,
But not all reaction is totally visible to our naked eyes.

It does not matter how much one likes to play with the force,
Because the force is not a controlled nature,
And like nature it has a mind of it's own.

For the longest time I thought planning ahead is way to live,
But like any chess piece,
Even a pawn can beat a magnificent queen!

Like a game of stratego,
You maybe landing on a land mine,
And then back to the drawing board.

Sad truth is you only live this one life,
And being afraid to move forward is simply in your head,
Because what is there for you to lose?

I've seen the pieces move in places
While looking afar to the painted canvas,
And moving up is a trap.

All this time people were warning me was that landmine,
And after countless people showed me the results,
I know how to play the game better.

I am not afraid of results,
But I align with what makes me happy,
And that is not an equation required by any algorithm.

It is following my heart!

Be happy for me as I am happy for you,
For you are the vessel that move me.

For I am striving for your admiration,
And your affirmation.

My movement for your attention,
And your attraction with your confirmation.

Cast upon the falling sky of Astraea,
The vast star empire of Sindar exalts.

The moon and the Goddess blessed nature,
As roots and the forest caress upon the waterfall.

Where the stones carve the wooden furnishes,
As Mother Earth nurtures the soils and the vegetation.

With thunders clash upon the great sea,
As it ripples into a tsunami and hurricane.

As soft as a petal of roses bloom,
But as sharp as it's thorns she speaks in tongue.

The melody of sweet sweet nectar of the harp she speaks,
And the skies kneel before her tongue.
But vigilant to guard her will.

Such is the mystic aura of her allure,
Like a old folk song enchanted heart,
And silence worthy to hear our beats in chest.

The creature refined by age of time,
More precious than fine jewels of the night sky,
It is the unspeakable beauty eludes us all.

More majestic than the pearls of all of the seven seas,
With not the unicorn or rainbows match the *** of gold she stands,
And like the star she eclipse illumination in the night!

Astraea be blessed,
For we were gifted by her light,
The blessed light of the night.

Things are in motion that I no longer am in control it seems,
And what maybe my advancement be my progress dissipated.

My ambition and pride brought me to where I stand,
But now it is completely out of my hands!

So I see the incoming storm that will drift me in it's rage,
But I shall meet it with my palms open,
And without regret I shall see it through!

This game of careers and jobs have but consequences,
And regardless of this desire for monetary gain,
I want to see the end of the tunnel.

One would argue that people should be complacent,
And be content with what they have,
But without a risk or to lose anything life just is!

I am done with standing still ******* up air,
Considering last three years were to set me up with opportunity,
And now I am going to take my step forward!

No one gets a chance if no one asks,
And not asking chances are living without risking anything,
But such is life of gamble.

I remember a saying "does one live a long life of normality,
Or do they seek to risk everything to be a somebody,"
And the only answer I see fit is "I'm done hiding under a rock!"

Maybe my plans will come with fruition,
Or maybe it will all back fire in my face,
But I rather live than live with a regret not knowing what if!

Do not fear the unknown in front of you,
But explore it's essence!

For fear is a blockage of progress,
And stoppers of growth.

One does not learn to swim in a whim,
But free fall with courage knowing it might be the last,
And come out stronger soaring in the wind.

One can only stay in the maze to die,
But find refuge by exploring the wilderness.

For the liars play their soft lyre to sooth you from the truth,
Like Sirens charm their voices to men's demise.

Like Odysseus, be a nobody for the Cyclopes,
But come out as a victor of his kingdom!

For risking nothing will get you nothing,
But find courage to voyage to unknown,
And be a champion of unraveling!