I’m walking towards the gates of death,
the doctors told me I have six months left.
I wish I could let go of your hand, without tears in my eyes…
But I’m just vulnerable and broken on the hospital bed by your side.

Time were not in our favor,
we were supposed to die together.

Theme parks and sands, mountains and road trips.
I still remember the coffee you brewed for me, even till the last sip.
The outlines of the photographs, smiles from cheek to cheek,
I wish I had more time, even till the very last week.

Time were not in our favor,
we were supposed to die together.

The future plans, the children’s names, and the family car.
All washed away, a deep knife cut that leaves me a scar.
I wish I could just let you go and smile from afar,
(and emptiness fills the room),
no matter how much alcohol there is left in the bar.

Time were not in our favor,
we were supposed to die together.

Till my very last breath, I hope I can hold on.
I am selfish and weak, and I need to stay strong.
I am thankful, that I will no longer be a burden,
but deep down inside I know I am of heavy laden.

Promise me that you will be happy again,
for I love you more than I love myself,
and a replacement would only be justice with much gain.

Do not be afraid to let those walls down again,
and no need to run and chase and pant as you have always did without vain.

Because at least now I can watch you from above,
even after six months, the greatest undying source I can give you,
is my deepest truest and strongest pure love.

Time, in the future will be in our favor,
when we meet in heavens again and be together.
... and finally, forever.

Scars will be scars,
the ones left untouched,
the ones left unharmed.

The wound has healed,
the time has sealed,
yet the remnants remain still.

The broken past:
fraction, fragment, fabricated;
solemn, dark, barren.
captured, cultivated, castrated.
emotionally torn,
physically torn,
psychologically sworn.

(When will the bird fly,
up to the sky,
freedom beneath the size
of the azure limitless dye).

We find comfort in sorrow,
fulfillment in hollow,
but emptiness continues and follow.

When will the shadows ever stop linger,
slipping and interweaving between my finger.
(One day maybe good news will come from a harbinger).

Light is what I need,
smile is what I seek.
Happiness is what I have to lead,
even with this little heart which is meek.

(One day) I will fly,
the cages will stop stifling me by,
although it is hard to try,
(One day) I will survive.

Depression, concussion, vague delusions.
Visions, combustion, surreal illusions.
Confusion, confinement, clear conclusions.
Depression, demoralization, epitome of exclusion.

Twirls and Whirls, Headaches and Heartaches.
(in between) B a l a n c e and D   i s o   r i en tat i o  n ;
Insomnia, phantasmagoria, and distinct pseudomania.
Sought and fought, dear “Soli Deo Gloria”.

Salvation, Submission, concrete Sanctification.
Then Forsaken, but now Forgiven.
Religion, Redemption and now: Relation.
To testify, evangelize and to show His glorification.

We were born untainted like empty canvas; a bud of roses.
But as time linger we digress from our innocence and actual selves.
We were scratched and polished, from diamonds pulvarized to dirt.
The facade we kept after succumbing to society’s propriety became us,
And the true face and being what we were became lost in time.

The mirror no longer reveals us, because we metamorphosed to someone else.
Another face in society, swallowed by the world’s expectations and encumbrance.
The appropriateness of etiquette, social conformity, and worldly priorities.
Day by day, we became less of ourselves, and more like everyone else.
Converging needs and wants, we lost our personal uniqueness,
And it seems like our attempt to be different is the same as everyone’s else.
By and by, we effort for elopement to get out of the box is futile – rather impossible.

Epitome of wealth and exclusiveness; highest degree of poverty and martyrdom.
In between those of extreme pillars, everyone seems to be in between and at both sides.
The world has become more dimensional, efficient, yet ineffective.
For our sweat and blood goes out for the wrong reasons;
And we fight against one another, (thus fighting against ourselves), to become the winner.

The winners aren’t actually victorious; neither are the loser the ultimate champions.
And this is only a mere microcosm,
to signify how the multifarious constituents that the world has formed:
a composite, complex, compound conformed convolution.

The two kids, rambling their murmurs away.
At the bus stop; animated, kinesthetic.
With voices that represented the curious cat.
Shall we not wonder, when the cat shall be killed.

It was not long ago, when I was in the same shoes.
Yet the alteration of taste, the mutation of size,
the change of environment, the dynamism of time…
It caused great discrepancy for a my own momentarily lack of understanding.
I could no longer put myself in their shoes.

And maybe, maybe not maybe, but definitely,
The sense of sympathy has died down and diminished,
just as society has taught me very well,
I no longer want to put myself in their shoes — ever (again).
I just anticipate in my personal phantasmagoria:
when the cat shall be killed.

All that beautiful notions and scenic illusions,
the illuminated views of the world (then), from my (then) tainted glasses.
I wonder when the kids will remove theirs soon.
I wonder when the kids will eventually lose their secluded eye sight,
as their vision become clearer with age.

In my thoughts, at that moment:
Would everything that seemed too beautiful just remain as what it is now:
The past that seemed so perfect, the present that seemed so still.
Memories remain as photographs, similar, or maybe transformed into:
motionless, emotionless twirl of mundane innocence.
A freeze frame, with no emotional attachment, no true connection.

Will all these just remain as cognitive recognition,
or will I still be able to look back and find my self recognition.

It’s as if you love a stranger,
when unconditional love prevails;
It’s as if it doesn’t matter,
when effort goes to no avail.

The agony that lies within,
triggering the paroxysm that lies outside.
Lingering from the bones – and,
into the skin with total surface so wide.

Why do you hide away from me?
All that defence mechanism I practice that I see in front of me,
When all I wanted was to be your safe place -
No harm, no pain, no ****** and openness without disgrace.

I know, being alone provides solace.
But without one another, our love will go into such a waste.
I know, it hurts to open yourself up to another individual,
When everything you sacrifice can suddenly seem so fatal.

Let me plead, let me plight.
That I am imperfect, but I try to be right.
To be the harbinger of peace and abatement,
Even when the world fails and together we have to fight.

For once I am willing to let go, willing to prepare for war,
willing to stand on my feet with great reason and meaning.
And finally I found you – my love,
that will prevent my selfishness from leaving,
(even when colossal pain kills my being).

You are my reason for thanksgiving;
This unconditional love – revealing,
Finally after my tears are wiped away,
and my vision goes into a clearer perspective:
When unconditional love prevails,
(Now I know), nothing will go into no avail.