I can't support the smell of fried chicken
or the taste of fries
I can't stand the fizzy drinks
or the muffins or the pies

all this junk food they push down my throat makes me sick
it slowly kills my good taste
it crushes my creativity
it turns me into a big fat pig



I barely remember your smell
only when the night is quiet
and the moon shines in silence
I can recall the taste of Euphoria in your neck

that perfume that used to light this brume
and recharge my lungs
that perfume that I barely remember
but I miss it so much



in the end
all I got left is this disgusting smell of mine
over that sweet fresh fragrance
by Calvin Klein

Each puff dulls the pain you bring,
Allowing myself time to feel euphoria.
Hate oozes as I soothe my soul,
Each second takes four hundred, and twenty moments to feel.

When it's over I'm left hoarse gasping for water, cotton in my mouth, and not a worry in the world.

Some say to live is to breathe
But they don't see
The forest for the trees
Its the tiny moments that gave peace
So I'll bury myself in the leaves

It is in the night
That your sobs turn into
Moans,
Where pain gives way to
Pleasure,
As our bodies intertwine
To find the love
That our hearts
And minds
Lost.

Got caught up in this thing called bliss
Trapped inside this euphoria
When indulgence was in my grip
Light and Dark is on its fast forward phase
When all senses comes back to you
You'll figure out that something's missing
Then you'll realize what you willingly gave
Just for the sake of fun
And when the source is out
It won't recognize your being
What's left of you is all you had
The feeling of some part of you is empty
Indulged by some to taste the pleasure
After you found out you lost
There's the regret creeping inside you
And you.....can never take it back
It was never meant to be given back
Presence of loneliness will slowly haunts you
Denying will only lead to failure
Faking it won't even save you
Longing will linger


So there you go......alone.......


Smiling for the better times,
And sobbing after being left behind

His hair: as black as charcoal
The kind that would leave a stain
On your fingertips
When you run them through each strand

His eyes: as dark as the forest
The kind that you would get lost in
But their mystery
Would make you never want to leave

His lips: as pink as cherry blossom trees
The kind that would leave a mark
Of possession on your skin
And would only exhale languages of beauty and love

His fingers: perfectly-shaped like candles
The kind that would light a fire
Inside of your heart
As he slowly makes circles around your chest

His skin: as pale as the clouds above
Yet, the kind that would electrify your body
From the slightest brush
To the most intimate touch of passion and love

Him: the most precious work of art
The kind that makes you feel everything
All at once;
My own shot of euphoria and bliss,
Simply the most breathtaking masterpiece

I live for the cut and ****** of battle
I dance to the rhythm of violent death
I listen for the gasping, moaning rattle
Of the fallen man's last, desperate breath

My veins run hot with warrior's blood
My sword sings out the song of war
The foe breaks over me like a flood
How could I ever ask for more?

For when I ****, I feel alive
The death I bring makes my heart beat
Taking a life is what makes me thrive
When covered in blood I feel complete