The cries are heard, from the souls of the ******,

As they drown in melancholia, while others watch, but fail to help.

In the ocean of pure depression, they struggle,

But their feet, constricted, by clusters of kelp.


They swallow the waves, but still starve for sympathy,

They lose their sanity, the torture, turns them wild.

And the inhuman beings just stare, at the lives being demolished,

Like the vulture, that stared, at Carter's dying child.

The willow is confused,

Thinks whether to wilt or bloom.

The lake will catch all her tears,

The lake will be her passionate groom.


I feel the seismic shakes up north,

The eagle of terror, alights to land.

We follow the cracks, on the ground, so dry,

Thee lines on the dirt, like the lines on my hand.


We sail, amidst, the howling winds,

The storm is a cyclops, and we search for his eye,

But the eye we seek cannot be found,

The storm is blind, and the calm is a lie.


Days that come, feel forever bright.

Nights crawl in and fill the clouds with gloom.

So the willow, is confused, and she can't decide,

If today, she wilts, or continue the bloom.

I will love you,
As you burn with the lordly roses,
in the zen gardens of peace.
As the world slowly turns its back on you.
I will become your disease.
when nobody hears your painful cries,
I will.



I will love you,
when your soul begins to wither,
when the oceans stop caressing the sand,

when you have fallen lower than ever,
whenever you'd need me to hold your hand.

And when nobody sees the pain in your eyes,

I will.



I will love you,
even if you try to stop the world from spinning,
even as the great seas on the moon stop flowing,
and when loss isn't far from winning.

As the fountains of youth run out

I will.

The absence of you,

is the presence of fangs digging deep into my neck,

brutally separating my soul from my body.


You were once my candle,

helping me live in the darkness,

providing a faint glow of hope.


The absence of you,

Has created melancholy in my chest.

I wish the candle's flame had lingered for a while.

Your eyes, like a child's.

Reminds me of innocence and being free.

As I look into them, I see my reflection,

But what do they see in me?


Do they see the monster I have been?

With all the violence and hard liquor?

Have they seen the blood that I shed?

Have they seen how the crimson has grown thicker?


Or do they see the sunny past,

when we were young, and bells chimed?

When we didn't care about the darkness,

and cared less, if nothing rhymed?


You and I will never change,

through the days, of love and strife,

now take your pretty eyes off my face,

and look forward, to the beauty of life.

The world, in the eyes of some,

may be a kingdom, with a proud and princely lion.

A Neverland, with flowing poems,

Where the embraces be tighter, than the belt of Orion.


In the eyes of others, this home is lonely Hell,

where one's escape, is another's dream.

for they have watched, the smiles, of all happy,

they have been caught, in the shadow, of the others'  beam.


I have witnessed, this confusing life,

from different angles, with bipolar eyes.

The euphoria, I know, of smiling, and flight,

the pain, I know, for my throat explodes with cries.


If there's something, I had learned,

from all the emotions that felt so true,

it's that this life, is relative,

for what I see as Red, they may see as Blue.

Full of hope, looking forward to tomorrow,

to forget the pain, and walk another mile.

for in the dark, I have survived,

Just like the thousand children of the mother Nile.