My boughs can take on storms
The roots can hold on to wet lands
What lies in the heart of a blue sky
My eyes are lonely and shy

You were my biggest weakness
My strongest desire

No time for crying
I am dusty as a clock
I keep looking ahead
To playing our broken records

The rains come in buckets
She rests her head on my denims
On an empty street as open as the ocean
The sunset keeps chasing us

But what tomorrow brings
That the autumn leaf turns
And winter's worry plagues me
If summer is dead, what is change, life, love

No one knows why I went bad  
When the sun rose, I lost sight of that young brat
As days go by, I'm left with my past
As nights go by, I put on my mask

All I can do is fix the mistakes
Allowing myself to set sail on lakes, first
Letting destiny be my anchor
Its sails are carried by the wind and the water

I may carry on with some abandon
And the victories might come all of a sudden
Yet, the losses do not bother me anyway
I know I am destined to win, today

i want to be alone
for its bliss is lovely

but i hate the feeling
of no warmth beside me

the dimness of the lamp
my only saving friend
why don't you stay
so we can grieve together
for we are too similar

this is the part where someone comes to mind
but truth to be told
my someone has always been a lie
the words were true
but my mind has been blank
all i know
is i crave for a warm
kind
hand.








©Words of a withering soul

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken






              ©words of a withering soul