there is one point of no return
an escape from the usual routine
drawn by stir, shattered by reliance
acquiring such thing isn't so easy, but the conclusions draw to the final proclamation

disjointed wisdom of a young porcupine
kidnapped fugitive released... and *****
by the laws of nature and their own stupidity
they stood next to each other and turned their bodies into two viscid twines, let alone be tangled

the pair of two, an insoluble equation
touching.. feeling... nothing but them
the bodies are lost and departed from society
leaving them both for themselves, acting like ***** dogs, they begun to slowly achieve their amusement

sphere in which i fathom the delusive state of empathy
has spoken to me, diverge from my existence, unneeded
the way you perceive pierces my shallow soul
but i still have hopes, i haven't given up yet

erase me from your life, i will still hopelessly love you
neverending stream of sorrowful stages in which you and i
will remain forever together in our dreams and imagination
and don't miss me, i know you are lying to me

i sat alone at the park and watch the gleaming stars exhibit your thin silhouette in which i undoubtfully fell in love with

embroiled snow of solitude, a meadow of coldness
where all the vivacious beings have died down
tearing down blizzards embellished decaying soil
with delicate fleecy fluff fallen down from the sky

collected trees with no leaf, coated with white fuzz
howbeit strong, keeping their thin stalks to an end
years by years, the trees fastened to each other closer
holding what is left, leaving what is now behind

they started to get weaker whenever getting too close
touching their haulm with another's haulm breaks them
and the tangled roots started to unravel themselves
with one another, they became really weak alone

in the end of the world where everything has been buried
only two trees have been left apart on a tiny ground
without holding each other's fangs, they lived together
happily, until each of them slowly progressed to vanish

good, our first catch of the day has shined away
awoken on a dreamy bedstead made of fluffy plume
feeling your delicate body weaving softly with mine
touching your sensitive breaths with my face
pushing your lips to mine and feeling your taste
life of lovers, dreamers of forsaken history




so meek, so mellow, you are my special mistress




memories, like scars, will never fade away
so i'm here, sitting alone, but don't worry
i'm feeling fine, the heart is bandaged gently
like your soul, it mayhaps will never be healed
but you gave me the memories i cannot forget
and i want to thank you, even if you hate me

you can tell me about that long dark path home
and lead me somewhere else where i'll wander
in research of your heart, of previous you
for the lady that has pierced my heart with arrow
for the lady that made me realise what real love is
and for you, you helped me find the right path




i sat silently, smiling to myself, drinking last bit of my wine
the memories came back but i don't regret the choices anymore
i think you and i will do better, separated, aloof from each other
i still love you but i hope you will find the right person now

hollowed chest of broken-hearted rhapsody
eurhythmic harmony of maimed individual
this sorness coated with exquisite luminance
delineated ire on a hopeless romantic

carrying nothing but a wall of felicity
falsehood interspersed to young society
tangled tentons of lonesome planetaries
introverted, flying carelessly to abyss

slitted throat, bleeds continually
forming bath of inexhaustible spite
collapsing world, enhancing grief
crucial words of lacerated crowd




vast space of regretful sparks lightly beaming on a decayed embodiment

the superficies of counterfeit prosperity has fallen down into the limbo

the only thing left -  dejected face of a rotten, testy, vacant debris

to reach a conclusion, to reach an understanding of one man's prohibition
it's such an affront for the multiverse, made up by him, the curious man
so i sink under the illumination from the moon, bounced lights of curiosity
a glass, made of ice, however clefted, it swings around on the water

i call it an effort, the ice, a reflection of a pessimistic mind, sinking
underneath the moonlight's sonata slowly hums the inquisitive melodies
the ocean... is not made of salty water. those are tears for a concerto
in A flat, those icy reflections delusively broadcast your whole life

and to reach its own: any prohibition has been infringed, it's gone
everyone could reach for the understanding, even for the universal ones
the curious man, yet fallen down, he already knew how weak and fake he is
the melody is a cacophony of his past life, the life of the curious man

i woke up beneath the clouds
been a long time since i looked at them
i observe how they move
how each cloud has its unparalleled look
how each cloud has its individual history
grey and white clouds

the white clouds symbolize her presence
white clouds are like her;
gentle, without any defects
she was that kind of story
that kind of book in which
you would die to be in

the grey clouds symbolize my longing
grey clouds are like me;
tempestuous, abrupt, unliked
i was that kind of story
that kind of book in which
none would be fond of to be in

we were in that kind of story
that kind of book in which
everyone would die to be in
i felt love at the first sight
the time passed so did clouds
the ones i've been looking at

i still go back to the times when we were together
but i need to stop thinking about it now
i'm afraid that our love will get
more profound when we are departed
that's the hardest part of being alone
feeling your ghost in my empty room

i glance at the sky once again
the clouds i've been observing
have gone away from my vision now
and she said;
"i believe that there is love in holding and in letting go"
"and it's time to let go"
but i will never stop gazing at the sky

you are here with me on the risque night
i feel the warmth of a youthful twain
but you are algid, like a broken statue
i see the scars drawn on your arms
don't worry, i got them too

your arms hold as many scars as mine
ah, what a match we'd make!

altogether, we are going to infirmary
we hold each other tight, like a rope
but it takes the courage to tell you
how beautiful you look in the rain
with water-soaked tears, it won't pass

i persuade this is one last time
but i've had too many "last times"

and sometimes, i fear it will be my last
i don't care what they say, i don't care
speak clauses with your fissured eyes
and move mountains with your smile
wake me up and lay with me in bed for hours

but don't tell me you love me
this isn't a love poem

i'll hold my time, i will stay strong
patient, oh what a virtue that is!
hopelessly hopeful i tire and bore myself
to reach unknown roads to your heart
but i get nowhere, it's been forever

i see the truth, your eyes are for him
they won't see mine but i can wait this out
wait for something to spark and fade
put away your blank pages that coat your face
you're so beautiful that it hurts sometimes

i'm taking these trips to the hospital alone
and don't tell me you love me, i don't care
because this was never a love poem
this was never a love letter, it's nothing
but just the reality

ah, you said we had years ahead of us
but you said we'd feel better soon
i wish i had slit your throat
to bleed ceaselessly for me
but you don't feel a ******* thing anymore

a heart shaped pool of warmth and affection
love between the lines of separated embers
singularity of a young paramour in love
with an illusive apparition of deceased gal

self-hate embraces her body like a flame
atop the candle made of contrite paraffin
of grief, odium and disgrace in one person
as the wax was slowly melting, she dissipated

but the lover never stopped loving his dame
knowing there are no places to visit anymore
he stayed where he lives, smiling upon future
knowing that his maiden is living a happy life

howbeit the girl shuts down, missing the point
a self-hateful black hole trying to **** itself
unluckily going nowhere, regreting for everything
they have ever done to people and themselves

"are you done for tonight?"
"yeah.. i'm just going to write... i mean lay! yeah, lay"
"good, hope to see you tomorrow"

it was inevitable that he is going to break the promise
a shallow habit of irreparable memories and scars
breaking the law, breaking the physics of a fellow inhabitant
the pumped longing warrants his revealed debility
he sat next to the desk, the illuminance from the lamp pervades his empty heart
there was a notebook, a blank one which has been waiting to be overdrawn by emotions
the pen however, layed in darkness and it didn't want to do anything
it just layed there, alone with negligence written through its whole look
he lifelessly brought it on his hand, looked at it carelessly, then threw it to litter

his posture has changed dramatically, it looked like he was ready for everything
he closed the notebook, leaving the blank pages - blank, but the mind was still filled
as he stood up, he started to feel a little weak, maybe he really needed some sleep
the mind was still full of inextricable thoughts that he firmly intended to express
over the night he didn't sleep, he just stood three inches above the desk, above the lamp
he elucidated his unexpected feelings, the wholesome truth has been ascertained and submerged...
his delicate body has been floating around, showing how much his soul didn't weigh
his heart was made of a gas, a gas lightest from air, it just volatillized through exhauster
and as we and him knew how much of a light-heart he is, we didn't perceive the facilely discerned truth
it was inevitable that she has broken his heart, completely