Revelling in its opulence,
I still thought the grass could be greener.
Poisoned with delusion,
My pride only grew with anger.
I had sought and I had sought and I
Suffered every step of the way.
I listened to the whispers and
My heart hardened, my eyes darkened,
Hair began falling, turning grey.
Poison seeped out my pores,
My words swayed those vulnerable
To have a share in my hell.

Dear God,
I have fallen.
This devil would like to return to heaven.
Purify my soul, offer me a chance
At redemption.
Dear God,
I admit to you with deep shame,
I have learnt my lesson.

Your blood
Submerged in the soil
Helps a red rose to grow.
Once cut, it regrows,
It is cut and cut again,
Uprooted, burned, and poisoned,
But there is an infinite mercy that
Brings it back.
And as long as there is life,
There is a path to forgiveness.
And as long as there is life,
There is a chance.
As long as there is a heart,
There is healing.
So do not lose hope whilst you're bleeding.
Look around and see the chances given
Glittering like stars in the night sky,
Twinkling as they say hello and goodbye.
I wouldn't lie to you.
Your rose will always grow.
It is a promise worth fighting for.

The building still stands,
Cold, devoid of a soul,
We wait by its doors to
Say our goodbyes.

Every little bird passes by
One by one,
Looks back with a tearful smile
And a grateful heart,
And takes flight.
Our strings are not cut
But
It is stretching far and wide.
How exciting!
We are moved by the winds,
And in our laughter we cry,
We ask that you forgive our sins,
And take the chance to say your joyous goodbyes.

If you weigh as a feather
You'd shine as bright as the sun
And all those heavy knots will be undone!
You will be as if on a boat
Sailing safely across the sea,
And you'll happily sing a song
"No wave will phase me!"
And it will be true,
But this is known only to a few.
Whether part of the crew, or a captain,
You'll gladly play your part as you've imagined,
For this is how life makes its art.

Father died,
And yet it was my mother who became a ghost.
She is the one still haunting
The memories of him.

"Who are you?" I ask her,
And she looks up as a teenager
On that sunny day when you first met.
Eyes glistening with love and promise,
At a time where I was not born yet.

Father, she says you visit her,
But in fact it is she who visits you,
No doubt about it.
She keeps telling me she wants to go home,
Because that is what you took when you left.
I ask her "where are you?"
And she finally recognises me,
But she stares at me in horror
The way she stared at you hanging from the tree.

Death is selfish, father.
Death doesn't just come for the dying
But for the living,
When it has made a phantom out of the heart of my mother.

She asks me "who are you?"
But I don't have the heart to tell her,
That's the truth.
Everyone has become a stranger, father.
Everyone but you.

Whether buried in the depths of snow,
Where you don't always reap what you sow,
People come, and people go.

Be it in the fit of passion,
At the peak of love,
When precious time is either rationed or disposed of;
Or just when your rhythm settles on a flow,
People come, and people go.

Whether that is something you're prepared for or not,
Will you tend to that which can grow
Or that which rots?
Clench not, when a friend can become a foe.
You may run, but eventually you will know,
People come, and people go.

I am no different than those who've abandoned me,
I am no different than those who've hurt me.
Yes, I know, it has become repetitive.
I understand why I spent so much in avoiding this silence.

I am no victim, no exception,
For that reason, I want to keep my life.
I'll probably carry this grief wherever I go.
So old now, it's covered in mold.
I wash it off but it regrows.

It's the same thing, again and again.
I never mean the same to you,
And vice versa,
In a perpetual state of loss,
A cycle of death reminding me of itself.
This familiar silence, a memento,
It may never let me go.