Cold was the night
As I sit by the floor.
Thinking of Love
In every living soul.

The floors were cracked
The walls were faded
And the ceiling was..
It was crumbling.

The crippled night
Of darkness and fog.
The ember rays
Shone by the ignited light.

Is it the same with
Love?
Isn't love the sweetest
Laughter of the one
You cherish the most?
Isn't it the girl
You stare at discreetly
Wishing to be
A part of her very soul?

Isn't love cruel?
Cruel enough to
Make you feel awful
Make you feel betrayed
Bewildered!
Make you feel afraid
And even make you
Feel the worst feeling..
The feeling of being
Left behind... ALONE.

Is it me? Or is it her?
Those moments
Happiness...
Sadness..
Success..
Confusion.. All that
Spent with her.
Were tossed aside
CRUMPLED
like a sheet of paper
Drawn with
a beautiful flower
But discarded
Because of
one
Simple
FLAW.
It weathered.

Was it because
Both of us grew cold
Of each other?
Like the polar
Ice caps
Melting
Making several floating
Ice bergs.

I found it
Nostalgic.
But the view of
A clear blue
Sky
A scenery I
Can't, reluctantly,
Ignore.
No matter how cold
Or hot the fiery city
Filled with passion
That I
Myself thought
Is worth taking the risk.

Love? Since when
Did I encountered
Such word?

It was probably,
A long
Time ago.

It was the color
of the
rainbow
as I walk down
the street
that made me
feel and
realize that
there are moments
where you
find yourself
in a painting of
black in white.

We keep in
track
of what is going on
and what is
about to happen.

It was at this
mundane scene
where we
find ourselves
reluctantly
struggling to see
the colors
behind the sea.
The sea of ideas
made to
carry
your boat into
the island
of painted walls
and columns.

I realized.
The sweet smiles
behind
the black and
white paintings
where the
feelings and
the memories
that were
captured and
kept in
a small frame
covered with glass
to withstand
the harsh
storms
called time.

The color of the
rainbow
made me
see
the beautiful
scenery
that one
could see.
It was the
picture of
Me
staring at
You
brimming with
happiness and
intricate
Color of smiles
within the
island of
Printed walls
and columns.

It was a desperate moment
When I saw myself
Crawling back to where
I began.

It was a desperate moment
When I thought
Of the good days
And mundane life

It was a desperate moment
When I went out to see
Those beautiful smiles
Carved in your face
With a side dish of rosy cheeks

It was a desperate moment
When I appreciated
The wonder of the city
And the beauty of city lights

It was a desperate moment
When I found myself
Fighting the demons
Inside my head
And searching for a way
Out of this darkness
That eats anything,
May it be light or sound.

I was muffled.

It was this desperate moment
When I wanted to back down
And regret what I did
But the instances
Forebode me of doing so...

I was too late...
It was too late..

To have regrets—

We’re both great minds.
Clashing, struggling on
Ideas and lies.

Foul cold eyes on
the same loud cries.

Distant.

Like a floating cloud
moving and swaying
Up above.

...Jotting lines
Like an ant seeking rations
of food.
But no--
We seek knowledge of sorts.
A dire need of attention.
A crippling greed for education.

Searching reconciliation
facing the vast horizon.

A challenge..

"Feed me truth,
And I shall eat it.
Serve me lies,
And I shall disprove it."

....
Silence.

All we hear
are the shouts
of the howling winds
As the we create Ideas
in the dead night out of our whims.

I flinched.

As I imagined of we
creating something together.

I felt discouraged
because,
I know for a reason
that if we managed,
I would fall into something
I won’t understand.

I will be dumbfounded.

I will see that without you,
I’d be nothing.

I’m a scientist
trying to disprove
the existence of you
making me feel nervous.

On that,
I wish to I bid adieu--

I know you sought
for your desires,
I came in short
for my demise.

The towers are lingering
through the faceless shadows of your whim.

I felt as if you’re Thumbelina,
All sweet and big from within.

The tulips fade
as the winter crave
to last for cold a summer winter gaze.

I hear that those,
Chilly winter breeze made you crumble
Beneath that layered wool of lamb.

I followed you
because I felt that even once,
I need to keep myself afar,
from the critics and judgmental eyes.

I know, I must not dwell
In things that I might not feel,
for the legends of those tales
are only but from a quill.

I hate the sound of the howling wind,
as it reminds me of that winter screams.

The ceiling of Cottony clouds, that carry a monotonous crowd.

I escaped reality because I found
that most are just living cows,
bred ‘till fatten but butchered after.

Is this the life I followed?
Or is this just one of many ?
I don’t know ‘coz I am not wary of the things that might come in handy.

I guess that legends
of one’s time
And glitters of one flake will surely be
preserved in a cold winter summer night.

Life is but a game.
You win. You lose.
You learn, and you choose.

It doesn't matter
When you are at
A corner
Trying to escape
From reality.

It is a churning
Crest.
A cluster of spec.

A valued piece.
A domino.
A fragile tease
Of what is to be known.

Frail.

A vortex of fear,
But a fountain of
A fruitful Lear.

You are but
A minor character
There to make a scene.
To see whose in vain
And whose insane.

The volouptious
Captious minds of
One's own thoughts.
Triangulating in
The midst of the sea.

  Because,

Life is violent
As it is bitter sweet.

The sky bleeds as it celebrates
A glorious day that has ended.
The taint of red and orange,
Painting the pavements that was
Supposed to be in a perfect shade of dark
Stayed still as it was defeated by
The gush of bloodshot rays of light.

It covered the face of the earth
As it envelopes and swallowed the
World itself; it's mundane.

The land is soiled with blood;
The blood of servitude and dismay—
A sublime face of reality.

The tokens of war, decided based
On what is true or whatever is
Right.. Or what is left
Behind as the smell of
Sweat and dust lingers in the air.

In pursuit..
To devour anything on the
Way before it gets beaten by
His own destruction.

You know its funny when all these years you wanted to be around with people, then suddenly, you want yourself to be secluded and isolated at the same time. You don't want attention. You even refuse the hands of those people who are reaching out for you. You of all people? You who always wanted to hang around with friends. You who always wanted to see the people you love brimming in happiness. You of all people who always reach a hand to your loved one's whenever you see them in despair.

Look how things strangely turn all this upside down. You who merely thought that everything will just go accordingly. But NO. Times change. People leave. And memories fade.

*"I want to be alone.
Secluded from the reality.
Pain? Loneliness?
Those are only excuses.
The truth is,
You want to be free.
You want to see yourself
as you,
Not worrying about
What other people might say.

Tranquility?

There are moments
Where you want to
Turn back time.
But you CAN'T.
Reality is a sore
Where everyone is
Forced to stare
Without any option.

Cruel. Right?

No.
It's what it can only offer.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.

***—... Ugh! Nevermind."

Resound poetry!
I don't know if we
Are thinking about bureaucracy  
Or about the same thing. You and me.  

Crept over reality
Jumping over uncertainties.

The crusades of the knight
In the dark starry night,
Is the march for the key
Of opening the light.  

The glass tinted window and
The night winged fellow,
Diving over willows,
Followed by its shadow.  

Silhouette of blind rhymes,
Taking down the front lines
Of every battlefield,
Swindling with fire and greed.  

Crept by the dark,
Followed by the blinding arc.

Raise those sheets and  
Draw those pens,
Let your fellow writers
Defend its fence.  

The war may have been ended by blood and sweat,
But t'was started with blots of ink.  

So get ready for the war of the century,
Armed with quills,
and quire
Filled with figures of poetry,  
Defended with thoughts of independency

...  

Write and be inspired —

Of all the mountains so steep
There are cavities so deep.
Lurking in the darkness as we speak
Are the horrors of souls weeping creeps.

Revolting within the land drenched
In blood and sweat, as the forlorn
Forms of endeavor reaches the throat
Of one's own life causing its death.

In all the deep trenches lies
The darkest secrets you'll ever find,
The horrors, the screams; drowning all
Hopes and dreams, pulling it deep within.

Pitch black as death come and goes,
Not knowing which way to go.
Lost in the darkness trying to throw
A lifeline for the helpless foes.

The incarnate of death is upon us,
The value of life is seen cheap in the canvass.

Running pale, escaping from the sickle,
Losing breath like a plant getting whittled.
The kids now come and go,
As they're drawn to the trenches below.

The uncanny resemblance of faith
Betrays us as it takes
The unfortunate lives of those
Innocent minds.

It's a roadkill —