Living beyond my horizon
A pain felt
Why within my sphere you aren't
Wish that could be answered
Better still
I travel miles in lost world
Hovering over an illusion
Thoughts of you mapping further
A master's pet, loyal
To oblivion my heart's set
Engraved to a hopeless course
Each step a twisted fate of luck
Finding you, my unwavering goal

Words gain ambiguous-ness when they finally reach my mind. With an except of few. Beauty being of such few; thinking it through, ...it does have meanings.

Innocent is your smile
Curious your eyes always are
Loving your heart's state
Most joyous companion around
Little angel of love

Looking at her pics blures me
She has contradicting effects on me
She makes me laugh and cry
She makes me dull and bright
I hate that I love her so
Running away gets me to her
Writing about her makes me furious
Thinking about her gets me going
Not acknowledging her keeps me sane

Knowing that you're pretty is quite enough to make me smile when I think of you. And having you smile at me makes my day.

It swept around with electrifying speed, and as it passed along each mind it gained gruesome new details.
Raging with a tenebrous effect that rears against the stars like an abandoned ship.
Looking down, he realized he had surprised himself with his own strength. Having the look of an exotic albino. His face drained of all blood, realizing the facts before him.
Its over.

She is worth more than the sight of a galaxy, worth more than the definition of beauty and imperfection. She is unnatural; her essence of beauty is a mental defectiveness, a deformity, for none of her lineaments exhibit any of those touching imperfections that reconcile us to the imperfection of the world. His gaze was fixed upon her as she felt un-ease. She could feel every piece of clothing on her fade as he undressed her  with his look. Having no regard for her being, keeping a lustful look upon her physique. A prey for his pleasure he sees her. He made the impression of an animal yawping for harmony.  
Yet he knows better than to pounce on her, searching within himself he finds a means imprinted deep upon his limbic stem. He studies patiently for her weakness, her innocence his first victim.
He tells her what she wants to hear, being careful with his selective half-truths. Guiding her gently to his already devised plan. Secluding her further from those close to her. His contagious condemnation made her emotions hunger for His lovable excrescence. He was desperate and without a word he infected her with an anxious sickness.
He couldn't help himself with mesmerizing thoughts, breeding words of his ***** desire; such words were made known to her through his eyes. For He desired to plunge his spear into her most precious sheath and play a game that fulfills a fierce urge that she can't deny. Her realization is too late. With none around to keep her from him. Knowing she is all at his mercy, he defile's her. Feasting upon her virtue, degrading her till she finds no esteem for her being; while she stands within the inconspicuous  pentagram of her own virginity. She is a never seen mirror, an unbroken egg, a sealed vas, a desired emotion, that made her magical; her magic made him, a slave. His touch both destroys and comforts her; she could feel his naked eyes roaring flashes through her thoughts with the urge of a beast, to strip her skin away and clothe her with his, and to drown her in the capacity of mirrored lust.

Her eyes were as black as coal, black as her hair; her lips were redder than blood. Her teeth seemed sharp, even then, in the moonlight.
I had been frozen by her, owned and dominated. But at the moment I warmed to her.
She told people bad things about me; a little truth to add savor to the dish, but mixed with many lies.
Lies and half-truths fall like snow, covering the things that I remember, the things I saw. A landscape, unrecognizable after a snowfall: that is what she has made of my life.
A vacant gaze of idiots.

She looks in the mirror
And see's someone staring straight back at her
A lost little girl
With cold hard eyes
And no expression on her face
Trying to cover up the pain she feels
A lost little girl
With too much anger inside of her too control
So she takes it out on everyone around her
Because she can't stop herself
A tear falls from her eye
Realizing that this lost little girl
Who is staring back at her
Is in fact herself
Her reflection
So wiping her tears away
She steps closer to the mirror
Looks herself in the eyes
And whispers to herself
"Who have I become?"

Some moments just give way. Usually get ****** at them cuz they were living and heartwarming, wishing to keep them through the stretch of time.
          Later came to understand, their movement was to make room for those they came before. They were merely making way for the incredible ones, those which made me speechless. Learning to let go and loosen my grip on the past was a bitter lesson which rewarded me in ways I couldn’t possibly explain in words.
          The past is for our memories to smile, the present for our decisions and be happy; and the future for us to explore. Everything comes and goes. Those we need always rotate around us. Availing themselves in our time of need. Letting go isn’t always an act of cowardice, but merely making room for opportunities. It’s a tricky one though. Let’s learn to listen to your heart, for within resides our essence. Let go of the past; the present is ours and tomorrow, for us to conquer.

Instinctively it just happens
Saying I know is self-deceit
Personality overrides common acts/sense
Amazed you can be if you wanna
Reality is I don’t control it
It slips the guard rail and manifests
To full expectation its effects attain
In my defense I have nothing with it
Logically it’s all me with no escape route
What can I say; it makes use of my personality
I don’t wanna be part of it yet enjoy it
Come to reconsider its more of me than I deny
Ok not me even though it all points to me