A million books around us,
Yet no knowledge in our minds.

Windows in the room,
Yet no air to breathe.

Keys to every door in the world,
Yet no liberty to unlock.

Hearts which pump blood,
Yet no feelings to expresss.

What have we become?
Are we zombies or machines,
Beings without remorse or humility.

Nobody knows.
We just know that it's downhill from here.

In knots are my wires:
Tangled, blocking my arteries:
Darling to decide ask me not;
If i choose blood or the complex;

Enter my labryinth with this code;
Warn yourself, a gruesome path this is;
Circling around and around,
Never reaching the end;
Because I snapped the wire.

The abyss tempts me to enter it;
Fear nothing it spoke ;
No more wet cheeks, no more ruined mascara;
My adrenaline leaped in with no clue of its depth.

Your innocent smile compliments your nod,
Just like frosting on a cupcake

Your brown eyes and jawline could pierce a heart,
Just like a dagger on the bullseye

Your burning heart could melt icebergs,
Just like how you melted my heart

The passion of your soul could drive a car,
Just like what made me write this poem.

In the mirror i look
But not myself i see
Countless windows and books
Can never set me free

A parrot in the cage, a peacock in the wild
Liberty in lock, conflict in freedom
Turn back in time, a little while a child
The mind is a script and its codes encrypt

Make it last but never vengeful
The limit is the ground, standing on soil
No water no air yet your glass if full
Your thoughts to diffuse, your intent to dilute

My life has ended on a tingling note
Yet my heart is beating, soul ascending
Trumps your worth no jewel or crystal
Precious is your clock, soon destroyed

Your sufferings became the fuel to my fire
Fire of my heart's desire not
But the furnace of my soul

Be afraid not of regrets and dreams
Never enough is life of the mortals
To sing is to sleep, to howl is to worship

The journey of stones and mud is mine
The path of grass and moss is yours
Finite is our worry of morrow

As heavy as the clouds is your mind
Pulled by the string of conciousness
The right the wrong the unknown.