Anxiety, the ever damnable beauty
You twisted my love into sins
You bend my trust into truths;
You are a rose that doesn't have thorns
Instead you're armed with thousand swords,
And in them I found myself
Always wounded—
Always I fold.

In the end I am a jester,
Laughing like a fool,
Kneeling in front the gallows
About to lose my darling head;
The stench of all the depraved
Mixed into a harrowing essence called Despair
Seeping into my soul as it pollute the air.

Darkness hugs me as my only friend
Crystals stained the pillows in my bed;
I know there's no problem
But you cunning devil incessantly whispered to me,
That they are always near.

Why do the songs
Of the fallen of love
Nibbles my heart
Yet I have never been loved

Why do the songs
Of the festival's dancers
Makes my lips jump
Yet I'm rarely filled with joy

Their slow and fast rhythm and beats
Invites my mind to imagine
A life that I didn't live
A life that I wouldn't feel

Their voices tell me stories
One that I shouldn't know
But on my mind will stay rent free
Until I grow into one dilapidated fool.

To you whom I have fallen,
My heart for you is hidden
For fear of being broken;
Smiling when the chance given
To see the gorgeous heaven
In your visage, I'm livened.

Petal flowers dances with the autumn breeze,
Some fall down becoming earth's feast
Some do travel like a small butterfly
A lone traveller; a minute ruler of sky.

As the petals wilt
The roots dreamed of different soil
More brown
More beautiful
A scene where its colors are proud
And the sunlight shine
More grand
More evergreen
If only it have hands and feet
Its petals wont wilt

my dog died
in my bed I lie
limbs unmoved
in a bind
the white ceilings  
plays our last goodbye
why do these angels
only live a little time?

The sun's immolating heat
Couldn't reach me with this speed;
I drove faster than my problems' emergence
—I tasted the pleasure of smile after a while,
This moment, how I wish they would last for life,
Yet every asphalt road have an end,
Every machine have limited fuel,
And that much of speed is bound to ask for a break;
But though it ends
Let's still hope for another ride
That fate, to us, lends.

© g.sloth