Keep distance, the Snail said,
I don't feel safe with humans around
and my pace makes me so vulnerable.

He took a deep breath and added,
do you ever feel my toil
to move from place to place
while the winds blow in gusts
and the world passes by like a storm?

My minutes tick like your hours
and hours days
as I climb the mountains of walls
cover furlongs of ground
rest and restart
never really knowing
where the path ends.

And you only add to my woes.

Your prank of a kick
rolls me back and down
all the way
to beyond from where I began.

A teardrop gathered in his opal eyes.

But it really doesn't matter,
a smile broke through the tears,

I see with all your pace
you're so far from happiness.

love is not him,
it's about you.
love is about being selfish,
but for awhile.
love is focusing on yourself
and cultivating the
happiness in your soul.
love is Y O U .
because at the end of day,
you're only your own anchor.
nothing will be left on you,
except you.

Upon the dark night, striking three;
A tick representing each step in time,
but time overwhelmed by a trinity
of peace, and a plan greater than one's wildest dreams.

As the trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
a bird sings unto the dark night her song, unique, sweet, and free-spirited

Another beauty upon the night, a tulip,
blossoming, not fully grown, in admiration of this free spirit, the bird.
The tulip observes from a distance the song the bird sings

A praise, a never ending thankfulness
"Thank You for the trees,
Thank You for the waves,
And thank You for me," the bird sings.

In awe of the song bird, the tulip longs to grow, to blossom, to fly, to sing;
Oh, the joy, the praise, the song she'll bring
when fully grown to exemplify her thanks to the three

But, Hold! The clock ticking three, a breath He takes.
The songs of beauty the bird once sang
are silenced more than a whisper

Oh, dear, wilting Tulip; she wonders,
"Why?" she misunderstands, "Why has the bird's song been hushed?"
Oh, so joyful with praise, the songs she sang,
but now unto another Audience, unheard by the flower;

However, the sun rises, the flower realizes,
A new day is upon her. The trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
Waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
Just like any other day.

Partaking in full bloom overnight, grown, she hears the call of three:
You're unique, sweet, and your free-spirit will sing,
for the steps of time past quicker than the steady rhythm of that clock ticking

Fly free, song bird,
Your legacy will only grow sweeter with time
As the bloom of a tulip smiles and praises the One unto which your song once thrived.

You are desperate for the reasons of failures

Victory comes beyond that

A soul is all you needed to be human,
I tell the ape,
that God blessed us with upon divergence
when he made us lose our tails
but forked us into different routes
in his flash of magnificence
morphing us into a super entity
but pitifully
depriving you of that edge.

A soul, I assert with satisfaction,
would've kept you out of this cage.

You might not have even noticed it,
I hated the grin on its face,
yours has only some wider space
by God's will,
so you wouldn't easily feel
your soul's losing the way in the maze.

But a cage, is a cage, is a cage..