**** pretentious nights
Silent and dim, like charred coal
Turn up the volume

Sun is pretentious
Night reveals the soul's desire
Calm and grand, and subtle

Why do we need to redeem ourselves?
To know one and to cherish one
To live thy life that we solely covet
No turning back, only now

Moles are blind and see no light
But they find their way
Carving mud and dust to get
To one’s itinerary

Paving their ways through filth
But they find their way
With warrens, dug in and dugout
And trusting their grit and snout

Working their way through lands
But they find their way
Through hard work with their two bare hands
Burrowing and Burrowing

Heroes and heroine
Harrowing and harrowing, but not like blind moles
Worry, why? Aren’t you much precious than them, darling?
With gift of sight, to see one’s light

it would be foolhardy to forego what most enlivens your heart
for a shadow

A metaphor of life,
A metaphor of death,
A metaphor of love,
That you once left.

Why do I keep on smoking?
It's a bad habit, I presume
I once hated its smell;
You know, like how you hated it.

Even cried to God
For my father to stop,
Its killing him-
A terrible affliction.

Now, here I am
Smoking my last cigarette  
Now that you are gone;
Its killing me, but you killed me first.

When will I conquer this torment?
Pondering about you,
Cigarettes keep me warm
Every puff and cough.

I don't blame you;
I just condemn my self
For being too weak,
Naive, and trusting.

I guess
I'm not really addicted to you,
I'm just addicted to your company,
Your warmth.

Every flick of the cigarette ****,
Like shootings stars,
Wishing you'd come back
This emptiness, this hollow smoke

I'll promise to stop, maybe.
But not now, darling
I guess this vice would suffice,
For now.

It's been a long season through
Youthful, where the hours go
Emotions filling through
All this thinking due to blue

Sullen with a little attitude
Chained with dreams and freedom
Smoking my last cigarette
Don't really know what to do

Ancora Imparo
To safety in love making
To hope and dream of days to come
Even apples have cyanides within

But lessons don't last when they're fast
I say here stand I
Young and learning
Time to pay the F-in rent!

October is a beggar

Knocking on doors

Snatching golden leaves

In Autumn