I'd rather drown in the deep blue sea,
than let you shed a tear for me

I'd rather burn to ashes at the stake,
than be without you when I wake

Yet,like Tantalus I reach out for the sweet fruit of your affections
Only to realise it's beyond my grasp and above my apprehension
For my darling,your love is an elusive mystery,not an open book

I'd rather crumble into a heap of rubble,
than let you suffer alone when you're in trouble

I'd rather lose every once of my breath and suffocate,
than let my love for you dissipate

Yet,Like Sisyphus I'll bear this brunt on my own for all eternity
And tirelessly, continue the uphill battle of conquering your heart
From start to finish and finish to start
But I'll do it with a smile on my face
For my darling, your love is a slow passionate torture,not a race

I'd rather sip on some hemlockian potion,
than withhold my time and my devotion
But my sweet...would you do the same?

I've sought, throughout my entire life, what were inevitably all for naught; to beseech a heart as this

I would have traded all before it just for a moment to embrace it with all my own

This is the preface of a blessing unto a man who lost faith, long ago; the echo of a voice what crept in through mere dreams and left with stoic wanting of what never could be found before

I yearn to give my heart for this

I find myself at a calm lonely place
Dark, shadow-like water staring at my face
Few lonely boats sailing away
Dense, dark clouds fill my gaze
And chilly winds stinging my face

As I sit here in idolatry
People as idle as me walking by me
The mind can't help but wonder about destinations
And feel a sense of coming premonitions
But the seagulls, they fly away
For they know better

But I, I will sit here, right here
For I just discovered the harrowing beauty
Of the calm before the storm

You've got convictions,
mumble poems to yourself,
lost at your front door.

You sip cigarettes
just like how your ex used to,
long and ferocious.

Still wearing his clothes,
but wearing the next guys shirt,
your heart on your sleeve.

It's all for non-sense,
we're all nihilists these days.
We all lack beliefs.

You have convictions;
a speech only you can hear.
Foot steps on concrete.

.
I came to the pavilion of the big cats
And in the center was a palace ruin,
The walls were stone and feeble mortar,
The great, golden monarch was the lion.

With wisdom eyes, he gazed upon me,
I lowered my head as was my station,
He did not move, nor deign to care,
In His royal chamber I was under thrown.

I thought, you are caught my over lord,
But his stance said, these bars are scepter
And I heard him say with a long lost roar,
'Hear my horn, I am he, the storm of Jericho.'

In the palace of the mighty, indifferent, king
His thundering voice crackled the lambing
Stables and even heaven closed under ceiling
Dome and I was caged when the walls fell away
And the whole, blown world, remade— a zoo.