She was born in this world unable to see.
Her chubby cheeks complement her very large eyes.
She was an angel, indeed. Adorable.
I know I wasn't there but I can tell from the very moment I saw her eyes.

Her eyes...
The only part of her that stays the same, from the moment when she was a child until now that she is a woman.
Her skin is no longer the same, nor her mind, nor her heart.
But her eyes... her eyes speak of eternity.

Her irises shame the bluest skies,
and when they turn gray the wolves realize that the moon is nothing to her gaze.
And when I read the scriptures stating God makes me lie in green pastures and leads me to still waters,
I need not to read them again, for her eyes tell it all.

Your eyes show me the evergreen fields, your face is tamer than the peaceful waters.
Tell me then, what else do I need, when you're the best that God has to offer?

Now what do the seekers seek,
what do the doubters ask,
what do they decipher,
when your eyes have answered them at last?

Why did they spend their lives looking at the stars,
why did they waste their time breaking down atoms,
why did they put themselves in an endless search for the understanding of infinity,
when the second they gaze upon your eyes, they shall know immortality?

I can see. But I was blind, like a bat lost in the middle of the day.
Seeking purpose, seeking essence, seeking all the answers to all the questions.
I have dropped belief, I have dropped faith, I have dropped hope,
and so I have dropped love.

And I have never been this lost.
It's a shame when the thing you were searching, was with you all along.

But fate is so gracious to give me the answer,
and I cannot believe that it would be much smaller,
The summary of everything, of the cosmos, of my existence,
Lies within your pupils, your lenses and your irises.

Your beauty has quantized the irrational,
you made the skeptic trust for the very first time,
you have shamed the atheist for making him believe in God,
for he was convinced that your perfect existence must have a perfect creator.

You have proven that Copernicus has wasted his time proving the earth's revolution around the sun,
when it was crystal clear that the universe revolves around you.
You have proven wrong Maslow's heirarchy of needs,
when it was your words that shall make a man truly live.

Your eyes became the window to another world,
Through it I've seen the beauty of your soul, the hope of us all.
This foolish man has even been proven foolish,
searching the answers in all the places, despite the fact that you're beside me.

And still I remain blind. I can see everything, but still I am blind.
But now I shall cease my needless wandering and just stare at your eyes for the rest of my life.
Until I am in my deathbed, with your cheeks chubby no more, and your beauty defied by time.
Your eyes remain the same, and the radiance of your soul forever young.

And I shall tell you my final words,
to the eyes of my goddess, forever divine,

*"I have seen the all the beauty of the world, through the eyes that weren't mine."

What is with twenty years?
They say life begins at twenty.
They say we should take things easily-
grow up gradually.

When I was three I wished to be seven,
When I was seven I wished to be thirteen,
When I was thirteen, I wished to be eighteen,
And now that I am, I wished to be twenty-one.

We all lived wishing, yet we never wished to live.
We live today, thinking about tomorrow,
regretting about yesterday.
We were unaware that we made the present nonexistent.

Some filled their stomachs with alcohol,
Some spent their lips with kisses,
Some lived their whole lives plowing,
Some wasted their lives harvesting.

But what if life ends at twenty?
Will everything change?
Or will everything merely adjust to its length?
Won't we be able to realize that we need to live?

My future, my benefit, my happiness,
We lived in worlds that revolve around ourselves,
We are the suns of our own galaxies,
The actors in our own spotlights.

It's hard to think of it, never knowing love,
just because we lived all our lives preparing,
or perhaps lived our lives spending.
Too much I's made us blind.

But I guess when the truth has been shown,
that the sands of our time is going scarce,
we realize that every grain counts,
and we start to immortalize ourselves.

We know that the eulogy won't be enough,
nor the stones that mark our graves,
nor the pictures in our albums.
We all know everyone leaves when the priest says amen.

But we start leaving stones in the hearts of people-
the fragments of our lives when we forget to live for ourselves.
Every bit of compassion, affection, thoughts and concern,
We immortalize ourselves in the hearts of men.

And so we are resurrected not as the tears they shed,
but as the smile they paint on their faces-

we are a life-changing memento,
with life growing in the path that we walk on.

And we shall know that this existence, though too short, is worth living for.

Words are the most wonderful things that would have existed in this world,
but now words are poison.
Even the world is rotting with liars, deceivers and flatterers.
Now words are merely dropped down, like candy wrappers.

Now I figure why no one desires the truth,
when words that would have been worth diamonds,
were merely said as if they were just soil in the ground.
when precious words that would've been treasured were just foolishly given away.

How many words of admiration have been wasted?
How many words of affection have been jested?
How many terms of endearment were truly heartfelt?
How many confessions were ever truly meant?

Words come and go as a craft of our tongues,
rather than a masterpiece of our hearts.
Words slip carelessly like unwanted wastes,
rather than carefully thought endeavors.

Now I am the boy who cried wolf,
whose words are mere garbage.
When I learned to truly tell you I love you, I adore you, I revere you, I need you,
'Twas too late, for the sugar has lost its taste.

Now then how can I tell you the sincerest words,
when the honey has already numbed your tongue?
Now how can I tell the sweetest affections I have for you,
when the words I've already wasted were as good as gone?

Now these words I offer, to your ear they may never sound new.
But know this, from now til the end of my days, all these words shall only be for you.