For the moment,
all I see is darkness.
For the moment,
I see no light.
For the moment,
if I persevere,
will i see the light at the end of the tunnel?

tossing, turning,
struggling to shut off,
to escape to the world beyond,
to the darkness within,
to the calming void,
back to the 'other' shackles,
rooted deep in your soul.

All too clear,
All too clear,
Right from the beginning,
It was all too clear,
That this was going nowhere.

All these colours,
Blinding neon lights,
My head hurts,
Oh how it throbbed,
It hurts, It hurts,
Why am I still here?
Why does the lights attract me so?

I do not belong here,
I can’t breathe,
I can’t breathe,
Tell me again,
No, no more,
I can’t take it anymore,
I’ll be taking my leave now.

i. my heart is a ghost town

I called out to every passerby
in this dead and desolate town;
asking,
if they could hear me
but to no avail.

Not a single could hear me
as they move on with their merry lives.

Those with broken souls
seemed to have mend themselves
with the company of others.

No longer do they need I.
I, who whispered nothing
but nothingness to them.
I, who could do nothing
to mend their wounded souls.
I, who is helpless,
in the face of helplessness.

As with my fleeting existence,
I could no longer match their pace.
It was like standing together
on the same pedestal
but on divided worlds.

We could no longer hear
each others' voices.

Upon this oppressively somber town,
I cast my shadow;
shunning away from the laughter,
away from the words
I could no longer comprehend.

My only friend; the silence

when the darkness prevails,
everything suffocates you,
you try to live but you're not 'living',
not even the slightest.

this tiny window of light,
you found one day,
holds much joy to your unsightly livelihood,
holds much salvation to your hopelessness.

[how long could you hold on,
before it loses its light?
how long could you breathe,
before you feel the grip of life on your throat - squeezing the life out of you]

for all things have an expiration date,
and happiness is momentary.

More often than not,
I find myself talking to myself.
And it gives off a feeling that is emptier than empty.

Even if you'd ask me to talk to you instead,
there is naught to say.

Tis' just not meant to be.

You may say i have it all
But look at my heart
Look at my soul
They're as empty as empty can be.

that is your reflection,
hanging in the night sky,
in spring,
threatening to disappear.

if you could just forget,
if the thoughts could drown away,
in your tears,
wouldn't it be great?

you could forget the voices,
the laughter, the smiles,
the kindness they once brought,
but never the dejection,
never the hopeless that comes after hope.

you could no longer hear the voices,
you long for,
only the ghosts in your heart.

Words from a shiny star,
Lulling my sadness to sleep.
I begun hoping without realising,
A faint dream I did not wish for.

What good does having feelings brings?
Nothing, I screamed;
Nothing but pain to my bowl.

I have long past the age of dreaming,
I was a fool.

My love ones sent me two bowls of rice,
In hopes that I keep on going on,
In hopes that I never fall.

I dare not let them down,
I dare not let out cries,
I hide my broken spoon,
the cracks in my bowls;
And I laughed.

someone said,
I shouldn’t continue like this,
that I should make a change,
but why,
does it make a difference?
will the nightingales
sing the song of my soul
if I started chasing
after the sun
once more

It's like she lost the will to live.
Like one who has lost all dreams and aspirations.
Then, as if she was thrown to sea,
she forgot how it was to breathe,
she struggled with the pain,
but for what ends?
And naturally, when she gave in,
all was well, and she laid lifelessly,
watching the world unfold,
through her warped looking glass.

at the end of our lives,
we would meet here,
in which our pasts are gone,
in which our presents are gone,
in which our futures are gone,
here where what is left,
is the remnant fragments of our existence,
lost to time.

when we bid goodbye,
in this never changing scenery,
it would be forever farewell,
there would no longer be, laughter,
or the sound of remembrance,
for we anew,
are nothing to the world.