Would you be the one
To end all the “what ifs”
And all uncertainties?

Would you be the one
To stay on the shore
Amidst the waves of storms?

Would you be the one
To dye my hair
When we get old and grey?

Would you be the one
To call me baby
Even when we reach ninety?

Would you be the one
To pull my wheelchair
When I can’t walk straight?

Would you be the one
To defy the gravity
To steal the stars in the galaxy?

Would you be the one
To prove the world and persist
That forever exists?

Would you be the one?
Would you be the answer
If I was the question?

...



*But we aren’t love birds
I’ll get lonely if you leave
But I wouldn’t die

the most frustrating thing
when it comes to a writer
is when everything
every word, every letter,
isn't enough to give justice to
the captivating picture of you
in the afternoon:

soaked in sweat,
grinning foolishly,
striking up a conversation
about coffee,
and how unhealthy it is
for me to drink
three cups straight,
to stay awake,

yet the bittersweet taste
stains my lips.

it spills down my throat,
covers my lungs,
and drowns them
with the addicting aroma
of coffee beans
and lazy dreams,
until i cannot seem
to breathe,

and the only thing
i can ever do
is to spill ink
for you.

As the dusk kissed the dawn
the moon starts to shy away
fireflies replace the stars
lovely birds start a lively hum
gradually waking up the sleeping sun

Slowly the flowers will flourish
waiting for the first sunbeam
that will pass thru the dashing trees
inside the pale green mountain
where unfathomable beauty hides

Soon as the moon bid goodnight
cold day air is born
perfect for the orange juice sky
dancing clouds will make a way
for the mighty sun to show its might

The first strike of the light
turns everything into emerald green
the energy is renewed
and the mountain is proud
for the wonder it holds will be seen

The bushes, the trees
the insects, the animals
the flowers, the grass
the rocks, the pebbles
all live in harmony

Didn’t know such beauty exist
wonders of nature truly a gift
And only those sucker for beauty
will dare to find, such places
where magic lies

I am a walking corpse
Looking for you
To take back my heart
Which I offered you before

Your cold hands
Your harsh words
Your dry feelings
Your empty heart
Is what killed me

I am a walking corpse
Looking for you
To take back my heart
Which I willingly gave you before

My want of attention
Your lack of affection
My want of action
Your lack of emotion
Is what killed me

I am a walking corpse
With a body and soul
Looking for you
To take back my heart

Fell down
To the ground
Halo’s gone
Skin scarred
Not a human
Now dressed as man
Wings burnt
Heaven sent?
Castaway?
Did he obey
Or betray?
Punishment
Or testament?