How long can this tree stand tall,
When it's roots, poisoned by drips of cancer

How long can this tree stand tall
When it's soil is injected with chemicals

How long can this tree stand tall
When it has been peeled,stripped,cut......
a thousand seconds

How long can this tree stand tall
When all it can feel is... nothing

A roller coaster it seems,  challenging our limits by all means.
A new chapter, banter, laughter and capture.
Ignite my heart, release the warmth and start.
Forgetting the scars, remembering the twinkling stars.
Raise above the waves albeit trust flushed away.
The storm is over...let's find our rainbow and be sober.

Complications and frustrations
A raucous sound made by Misunderstandings and misinterpretations
Confusions, delusions, illusions
Are there Solutions and inclusions???
When does it end, how will it mend
Embraced by chains, drenched with pains
Tears turned into icicles 
Oxygen filled with poison
Sensations, apprehensions, dedications
Washed away down the river of hopes
Drowning, failing, suffocating
If only...If only I can just breath

I'm sleepy and going to bed
Had an ok day but I'm seeing red
A good read from HP poets
Will lift me up at my lowest
I wish you goodnight
And hope you have a good write

This road we follow
Seems to swallow
Every tool we hold
Every missing puzzle we unfold
Rainbow colours everywhere
Thunder greys elsewhere
We are pillars of our minds
We are awake... not blind!
This road we follow
Seems to swallow*
Eject your anguish
Pursue your ambitions....and vanquish!

.
A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's the tears that trickle with radiance through words.
     It's a treasure trove that hides but longs to
     be found.
          It's a book shelved high that wants to
          be read.
               It's the freest of all birds caged but
               unbound...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't beat to the capable strokes of the artist.
     It doesn't pump in the most vibrant of
     colours.
          It doesn't wield a paintbrush to
          translate its thoughts.
               But it can see through the eyes of
               painters...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It doesn't conform to the conventional parameters of lyrics.
     It doesn't bind itself to the requirements
     of musical harmony.
          It doesn't follow the conventions of
          genres.
               But it sings its voice loud without
               restrictions of melody...

A poet's heart isn't like any other...
It's an open secret, that whispers in metaphoric codes.
     It's an exploding universe, that merges
     back into galaxies.
          It's a sought after painting, that boasts
          of unfathomable beauty.
               It's an everlasting song, that echoes
               within the poet that embodies...

I'm like the autumn season
I'm colourful.. eventually my leaves fall off
Im wilted, bare and alone
Hopeful...
for the rain to water the seeds to my future happiness
Patiently....
waiting for the sun to elongate my stems
Graciously...
waiting for my flowers to bloom
Finally... I'm alive again!!