I died the time when love was born.
I died, you see, I died.
If there's one thing that ever kills,
That thing is love inside.
'Cause feelings plain and simple spent
Are sane to be rejected.
A thing or two to show the scar -
Death in love was stated.

For when was it considered true?
For when, I ask, for when?
That those who loved be rendered spites
In view of love's content?
I died, I say, I died again;
The words are pale in meanings.
I died deceived, misled, forsaken
My heart's bound up believing.

I try to walk
In this garden of youth
To see if it will hone me,
Take me in and guide me.

Flowers on the aisle
Walk me be the side
As I gaze my eyes
To its vivid life.

I noticed a lone breed -
A **** quite so strange;
Ugly to my eyes,
Yet strong in pure scent.

I asked the gardener
Why keep such a thing
And ruin the spectacle
Of this beautiful garden.

He laughed out loud
And said to me: "My son,
It grew on its own
To catch the warm sun.

"I've let it be
For it need not tending
Unlike these **** roses
Who need babysitting."

I stared awhile
In wonder and awe.
This ugly ****, I realized
Should be my guide after all.

For a friend I write.
For a friend I rhyme.
For a friend I'll raise my pen
And show her things I find
A little pleasing, kind and sweet;
Though my heart broke down
In successive trilogy:
The love, the life and the soul
On someone else I've known
Ages and ages ago.

A poem you say,
This is all I could give -
A little stale in verses,
A little plain in creed:
"A friend of mine, you've always been.
A friend I'll always crave.
A friend that brightens my day
And brings me smiles and ease!"
But I can scribe no more.
These verses are all fed up.
My timid brain, my wounded heart,
Has left me torn apart.

Of all the things, I ask of you,
Am I the one to know
That love devours completely
When once the truth unfolds?
Fathom it well, I know you can.
You know how women think
When one says to a desperate lad:
"Go away, for heaven's sake!"

Now I'll end it all here.
I'm tired, though a bit restless.
Thanks for sparing some precious time
To hear my hopeless crisis.
I'll end it all with a heavy heart
And hope you'll understand
That my rhyme has not yet come
To scribe the Fairy Lands.

You are encased
In a dream,
No way to pry and find
Its sealed treasuries.

These I have been using:
Clips, pens, knives and edges.

Can you read
The ambiguity
Donned by my actions?

Give me the key then
To unlock my aspirations.

Death devours, truth denies
Like blades of ****** swords.
Cravings killed, deception spilled...
Beware the ****** gore!
In depths of rime and falsehood reason
The world's at one with evil.
You born, you die in senseless treason
With hordes to rock the cradle.

As soon as life departs your pores
Defaced, the soul wears black.
At points where blackened candles rule
There's no road to turn you back.
Where's the path, a lightened highway?
All's just tormented, framed.
The life I live, where is it heading?
Nowhere. A mindless game.

The actors play the life of men:
Of rulers, knights and kings.
But no one plays the part of jesters
So why should i believe?
Meaningless schemes, meaningless dreams -
A stage that life beguiled.
Death devoured, truth denied
The life I tried to find.

I played the game with a smile.

Pawns suppressing the move
Made by my hand for the king.
A mistake, and it's all over.

Checkmate.

The king couldn't move neither direction
For the opponent's difficulty,
But rather an invitation of defeat
Spurned with soldiers left looking
At a king's dethronement.

No more.

I lost to a mere
Enticement
Of a Queen.

I'll play thief
To the home
Of a rich man
And steal
Malt for my
Bitterness and ale
For the happiness
That was kept
In the mug
Of paupers.

These ingredients
Are a lot cheaper
On sidewalks
But mansions store
The most flavorful:
Bitterness
From the source
That stings
On the plate
Of paupers.