Sleep.
The one thing I need that that avoids me.
My body is telling me I must rest now,
But my mind is saying "No."
There's so much to think about,
So much to remember,
So many hearts to mourn over.
Sleep that one word that hates me,
Because I'm friends with his enemy.
They call her "Insomnia."

I cannot love you
You, a poet like me
For I fear your poetry
As much as I fear mine

Words will flow inevitably
The current is impossible to defy
The current we shall not defy
Because we live to write and we write to live

Time will be spent not through creating memories
But by attempts to create impeccable metaphors
And instead of holding each other's hand
We'd be gripping pens for dear life

There would be smiles and laughter
But more of screams and groans
Out of frustration, of exasperation
We live to write and we write to live

I foresee a competition, commencing unannounced
After making love, we shall draw our swords out
Joined by passionate fire, now we shall turn away
And  make each other bleed each other's name

Your eyes are the moon illuminating my night
My smile is a hundred suns on your vast sky
Our love shall be immortalized in words
But our hearts shall be left in ruins

For your scarlet wildfires will contest my sky blue ice
And my apathetic ice will envelop your vivacious seas
Your enraged seas will swallow my tranquil lands
And my ambitious lands will reach your unreachable skies

We will spew verses and scribble stanzas some more
Crumple countless papers and waste bottles of ink
Our grandiloquence is what brought us together
But our different styles would escort us to the end

We are poets, we do what poets do best
Poets may love but poets are made to write
We live to write and we write to live
We shall not live for each other and let each other live

And be released onto the streets

Where nothing eats

Because lost and nothing is all we are.

Loose beneath the stars

Sadness has taken its toll

I gave away my soul