I have written for a hundred million about a heartbreak,
Few might sacrifice lot of efforts not to let the paper scattered,
And some are raw.
But I got tired writing them then.

Not everyone understand the violence it took to become this gentle,
The sun, the moon, and the stars also your sad eyes understand,
That I don't need forever to wait until we can dancing and singing on the moon.

A windy afternoon, and since then, you became the kind of ache I don't mind at all.
And only if I could cut you open,
Perhaps there's a million of tiny little poetry that will fly away,
Dancing on the wind like a butterflies.
Kissing the sun, scorching through the sky.

I may have accidentally never be able to stop loving you,
You are a living celestial fallen star of the universe,
The dust of eternity,
A correctly placed within the constellation.
And for that, I love you.

Cause it's you that I fall, to your big heart perhaps.
Yet, somewhere in a lonely place, I was meant to love you.
Decorating your body with the contour of lights.

Somewhere in time, I was meant to have you.
Losing myself inside the ocean of your eyes.
Drowning myself against every touch within your skin.

If you could read my mind,
you'd see million papers written about how much
the love I have for you...

I reached out for the stars,
and put them inside your eyes.
Until the moment of silence,
until the world running out of its light.


The love will remains whole.

He shines, 
Like a yellow petalled rose,
Like an early sunrise,
That ignites a fierce fire 
Kissing a beaming pathway 
To his soul, 

His smells just like wells 
Of blooming flowers
In the middle of spring.
Twinkling as the pale starlight, 
Soft and want to be noticed.

He is gentle
Like a sudden raindrop
Dropping through the windows
Shining on the foggy morning.

And there he was again,
A wise soul of unwrapped love.
He was the moon
That I always like to write about.

Just like a song that defies time
Her words are sweet pieces of dreams
Held tight during nights like these
In that old dance of men with rain

Her eyes are a city of lights
A little world, soft and safe in the breeze

And behind there is a limitless sky
Of feelings one never gets to explain
She is an escape of poetry

She hears music.
Coming from nowhere, filling up everywhere.
A ghost of a phantom
whispers in her ear
“Let the music take you;
let the words free you”.

It waits like a shroud,
Misty, comforting and open,
For her caveat-less submission.
Insistent soft etherical tendrils
take her to the source.

She feels music.
Coming from everywhere, filling up nowhere.
A voice of a Goddess
Whispers in her ear
“Let the girl take you;
let the woman free you”.

He lies flat on the rooftop
looking at the stars.
Useless worlds birthing and dying
He muses the colossal magnificence of waste

Just because someone from an island
Would stare at them in awe of the beauty
Seeking a key to the riddle
Himself a grain of dust
Lost in reading the firmament
And not grasping
Of what significance he is

Within his shrinking space and time
In an expanding universe.

He laughs at the sound of the wind
As it echoes through his mind
Telling him stories of memories

He had previously left behind
With caricatures of faces
He can no longer remember in reality
And songs from past places
That bring him down
With the emotional gravity

And he was his thoughts spin around and around
He gets dizzy from the intensity
And hissanity
Can no longer be found
Yet, he can still hear the wind
And he laughs at the sound