"Handle it with care"
That, I would always say.
To you, I give my heart so fragile;
A risk that I would never dare
To let another hold
Such a thing so rare,
Which you always seem to break
With your trembling hands.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident"
That, you would always say.
So I always have ****** palms,
And marred fingers,
From always picking up
The sharp fragments
Of my once called heart,
That you so fearfully handle.

Mind that I don't blame you
And your frail hands.
I pick up every blood-stained piece,
With a warm smile.
Every tear and sweat
That ran from my face,
Would wash away the stains,
Restoring its brilliance.

Now I realize that rarity
Does not come in fragile form.
It comes in the form of beauty
That endures. Once healed,
The pieces brought together
Illuminate into a colorful mosaic,
Dedicated to you.

Let its splendor captivate you.
A masterpiece that will drive
All the fears and worries away,
As it makes the trembling end.
For they are not just fragments,
But mementos that will last;
Images that will forever gleam,
**Of you and me.

You're the shooting star
That I've wished upon for so long.
A thousand times and more,
I closed my eyes, as I crossed my fingers
Whispering your name;
That somehow, in some way,
The heavens would listen.

A bargain of that cosmic chance I'll take,
If it's all for your sake.
So let me be an astronomer
Who wants to hold your hand,
Because heavenly is what you are;
My love, please don't forget,
That heavenly is what you are.

Someday, maybe,
I'll be able to relay
Those letters to you.
Maybe someday,
In the near future, maybe;
The postcards I sent
To your heart,
Will finally reach you.

It might have lost its way,
But it will surely
Reach you someday.
As you read in the words,
In the words, they say;
"I loved you yesterday".

P.S.
I still love you today

We all wear masks,
Some are elegant,
Some are deviant,
And some bizarre-looking.

We all wear masks,
Be it brilliant or dull,
Extravagant or simple;
Some a smile, some gloomy,
And some a frown.

For we are all theatrical;
We go about our masks,
We don them very well,
We want our faces kept hidden,
That no sunlight could touch them.
And we display ourselves,
That this is the real me, you, us.

We always look in the mirror,
Adoring our masks,
Obsessing over it,
Till we completely forget
What our true faces look like.
So we state to impress,
As we gather in a masquerade,
Dancing like devils in the night of lies.

Let me not be the warhorse to this myth called love
That the wisest of men shall bow before me
Erewhile, that warm light, hid in the clouds above;
Its grim shadows casting my uncertainty

From the chambers of scorn, locked on my own;
Thou drewest near like a wildflower, setting me free
O my torn heart restored, thou hast carefully sewn
Thou art my rescue; and thy smile, the key

Unto every one that hath felt this enchantment,
Whose power turns timid souls into beasts
If this be fate’s scheme, or divine entrapment
In the court of doubts, I testify to its fulfillment

Cometh my love, and delve into thine own heart
I am but a humble man, if I may ask of thee
My beloved, canst thou be with me forever?
Yonder, not far from here, lies our happily ever after

Part I: The Elegy of the ******

O we all hail from the pits of ashes, coals, and tar
And crawled out from the crater, of that northern cold star

All ye heart’s wish is to stand in the pope’s grand pulpit
All souls unknowingly swindled, ye vainly submit!

Then, if apes be to humans and humans be to gods;
Unto stones we spit out our apostasies and sobs

We strip our skins to this detestable madness,
From darkness once lurked, we go back with ill fondness

So we adorn ourselves with profane golden idols
On our hands, feet, and neck; to cover our vile souls

And ye stab thine own neighbor, to fulfill thine own ploys
Thou hath betrayed thyself, for that thirty silver coins

As a putrefied heart turn to a hardened stone,
So it breaks into dust, as gusts of shame strews it alone

Woe to me! How do I redeem my lost poor soul?
If the wroth Maker hath already taken my toll

How much does life weigh?
Twenty-one grams, they say
In those twenty-one grams,
Can it be measured?
All the memories, thoughts,
And experiences treasured

They say,
There is a light we all seek;
But all I see are the dark clouds
Forming and massing.

Wherever I walk and run,
They rapidly follow and chase me,
Plaguing the skies with gloom,
Stretching forward,
Farther away,
Beyond me.

A curtain of shadows fall
In droplets of black;
Eating my sight,
Creeping in my body,
Consuming me like
Decay that ravaged the fields
Where I once frolicked.

All is shrouded in terror and blight.
I could see the towers
I have built, which stood strong
And firm, where I once kept
Watch in wait, now fall and crumble,
Its foundations reduced into rubble.
They now kneel in the dark
Like lost pilgrims.

How can the light
Touch my face now?
If Despair has already kissed my lips,
And I, have become its lover.
We have exchanged our vows,
Etched like tattoos in the sky,
Saying, "till death do us part".

Every single day,
I try to **** and ****
The loneliness and pain,
So much that I stand
Upon the piled up corpses
Of the daily sufferings
That I have murdered.

They have stretched
Into an endless ocean
Of rotting bodies;
Bodies that I do not
Even recognize anymore;
The waves of faces
That I have forgotten,
And the waves of faces
That have forgotten me.

I would always see
The murky reflection of memories
That can never be found anymore,
Lost in the ripple
Of my silenced screams within.

In my conquest, to appease this insatiable thirst
For the greatest human error
I would call it perfection, a flash of grace;
An unsung beauty laid waste

Here, echoes my fanfare for the brave;
To the strongest impulse that the soul craves
The search for something as elusive as love;
The anodyne that turns crows into doves

Oh, it will **** me again and again,
But I hunt and yearn for it evermore
I pour out my soul, to this devil’s bargain,
For we are all victims of the heart’s ploy

There were eyes on us,
Mouths against us,
Crowds of false witnesses
Wrongfully accusing us.

Beneath all their lies,
Did our truths blossom,
Upon the edge of doom,
Did we learn to love.

But I never intended,
That your name be sullied,
Or your mother to grieve
To those lies they heave.

So the angry mobs gather,
Together with the royal guards;
But I will face such danger,
For our happily ever after.

All to prove our love,
To prove your innocence;
For our names to be cleansed,
I will endure in your defense.

But you cried and said,
"My love, you need not suffer,
We can escape, and go on,
To our happily ever after."

So we ran into the mountains,
Into the woods and glades;
With nothing but love in our hands,
Hoping that fire won't fade.

The princess once adored,
Was now but a vagabond;
Who thought she was free,
Being cut from her family tree.

They would release their hounds,
Hunting us day and night.
But young love is stubborn,
Never giving up a fight.

In the hold of my arms,
There, you were undone.
In the worries we both buried,
There, we were married.

And as the winter days passed,
That fire we kept aged;
Your smile is now long gone,
Our love's toll, we have paid.

That blazing fire we held,
Kindled by your frail branch
From the family tree,
Weakened to a dying ember.

The halcyon days barely kept
By that ember, were swept
By the shadows in our front door,
Killing its remnants of ardor.

Now it has turned to ash,
The fire died, and it didn't last;
Our hands were scorched in agony,
Left with nothing but traces of ebony.

So we held each other's heart
With dark and ***** palms;
Which blackened our hearts
To beat fast resounding qualms.

Lover, we sleep cold every night,
For we have lost our burning light.
In the darkness, we shiver,
As doubt completely takes over.

In our love forsaken rituals,
Did we offer ourselves like animals,
Banished from our old homes,
Left to die with broken bones.

Lover, we have taken back
All the promises we've said,
Our dreams of happily ever after,
Are now long dead.


E N D

There were days that I cried,
Because of all the pain,
Till it came to a point,
That I got tired of feeling,
That I got tired of pain.

So I hardened my heart,
Every day, I hardened my heart.
So much that it turned into stone,
Then it turned into steel,
Till it completely rusted, falling apart.

We are all like deformed seraphs
With seven wings that flight death.
We conceive filthy cherubs in swamps,
That dwell in the eden of our own making.

We have inherited muck from our fathers,
Passed on as glorified heirlooms;
And like fools we are, we proudly raise
That useless dirt we crawled out from.

In an effort to save our decadent ways;
We put our own blood over our doors,
And don our fig leaves that wither
As ******* sons and daughters of the earth.

Like heretic church curators we are,
We gather choirs that sing hymns of lies,
As its melody echoes in a swift pace
To defile the hearts of the innocent.

Truth and Beauty, do we even know?
Our own replica of it, we create.
We liken it to things that poison and ****,
And celebrate upon ruins of graveyards.

We have taken Death’s sickle,
And used it to tear the Book of Life.
We sleep in the mount of skulls and bones,
Where our castle of agony lies.

We dwell in the place of worms,
We have built a throne of flesh,
We have dined on decayed carcass,
And drank sulfur for wine.

We have fed our children to the wolves,
As the blood of our people
Seep in the soil of the earth,
And flow in the waves of the seas.

We have crept like marauders
Under the beds of our neighbors,
To slit their throats in their sleep;
So that we may bathe in their blood.

For we all desire to be drenched in blood,
To be covered in its velvet cloak.
Not knowing, that the blood we seek all along,
*Is the cleansing blood that Christ gives.

Some days, my heart
Is like a raging sea,
Thrashing and howling;
Like a thundering cry
That bursts through the
Dark skies and storms.

Some days, my heart
Is like a still sea, empty,
With no tides and waves;
Like a deafening sound
Of silence that echoes
Through the dead air.

Once the impish cherub
Carelessly draws his bow;
And the arrow lets loose,
Truly it does not choose
Any person from the highest
Of fame, or a nobody
From the unknown below.
For all hearts in sight, he ruins.

So we are all a part
Of his target practice
And once it hits hard, our
Torn hearts are on his lease.
For humanity must suffer
A thousand times to Love's game,
So that we may proudly
Attest, against its cursed name

So once love came,
In the form of the
"Greatest Love Story Ever Told".
Though perfect, it stooped down
In our imperfectness,
Bearing the eternal romance
That we so desperately seek.
For our hearts were designed,
To yearn for this perfection;
So much that it was given free,
So that we can see,
That love so true,
Is meant for me and you.

Part II: The Ode of the Saints

O if hope crumbles, that it turns tears into sand
Thou shalt find His Majesty, stretching out his mighty hand

Let the Great I Am remove, the dirt mixed from thy tears
Unto his glory shall yield thee, till the end of thy years

O in Thy courts, we find, the rest so desperately sought
Bestow Thy vindication that Thou hath lovingly bought

Thou giveth roses without thorns, a bridge without nails
Giving Thy warm breath of life, as death’s sting fails

Now, let us bask in Thy sweet fold of heaven’s light
Thou my highest Word, Thy wisdom that restored my sight

Naught indeed, but the Son’s love, is undeterred to save!
I, ever with thee, and Thy Spirit of Fire I crave!

Grateful we are! Thou living water, the Prince of Peace
Thou hath cometh, so that endless thirst may cease

For once and for all; for us, he was laid
Let us rejoice with glee, for it is free, none paid!