I never knew I'd fall in love with you
Because I still on my pursue
However, You came with the glue
Before I knew
My heart was fixed by you

Yet, falling in love
Is not pure as the dove
It just changes the form of my hell
I know where this will end
Still, I don't care, others can tell
I won't bend

I never knew I'd fall in love with you
Because I still on my pursue
However, you came with something new
Before I do
I'm already belong to you

Yet, the reality
Welcomes me with brutality
I'm taking care of my gain
Preparing for my pain
let's be honest in plain
My love will left me again

(But, I realized that I'll never be ready)

Advice not taken, words not heeded

The sharing of wisdom

Not wanted or needed

Now I am older and I know

Seeds on poor ground

Take some time to grow

I was once One with
what I love
but cannot know
and am now left
yearning
to return to where
I cannot travel
to restore my place
amongst that which
is without form.

The fog's captives
were held
motionless
and entranced—
frozen
in a bearingless
nothing.
There had existed
within them
only a moment
of anticipation
as the grey
encased them—
vacillations
between the loss
of one world
and acceptance
of another.
As its vaporous
cold snaked
through their
clothes and into
their bones,
it whispered
a silent boast
of how quickly
they could be
made to forget
all they thought
they knew
to be certain.

No use in saying
what won’t
be understood.
After all,
how many times
must the experiment
be run?
How many
times must the
confirmation of
vacancy
distrust
misunderstanding
and rejection
be faced
before the soul
learns to stop
speaking,
as a prisoner in
a foreign
land sits silently
within a cell
between walls
built of ears
and eyes
who see and
hear all
and use
all against him?
How long before
the soul is
reduced to giving
only a knowing nod
and a saddened smile?

To jump and never land—
to breathe in but never out—
to fall asleep and never wake up...
The glass stillness of a pond,
its surface never disturbed—
peace without its pole:
Nothing.

It’s not that
they don’t speak—
it’s that we
won’t listen.
We hear only
with our ears
now—tuned
for only our
own tones.
Their language
is subtle
and comprehensive;
a language of
truths without
motive, born
of a life
we’ve turned
away from.

Looking for friendship,
Into my life came he,
Many hated him for reasons unknown,
A quiet loner, but,
Oh! So possessive.

He listened to me ramble about,
Foes and frolics,
Woes and world,
Never did he complain.
I told him everything,
But I didn't even know his name.

Ties broken and relations gone,
Everyone lost,
And I was lost in him,
But I was dying,
Fading,
Piece by piece.
His kind, blue eyes drowned me,
In reassurance.

Months flew,
Standing at the Doors of Death,
Gasping, choking,
I reached for his hand,
Realization dawned on me,
As he stood, silently smirking at me.
To consume yet another soul,
He left me dying,
In the echoes of his name-

"Loneliness"

You’re  never to old to be stupid.
You’re never stop being a fool.
Daftness's a lifelong habit
That carry’s on way beyond school

You think you've grown older and wiser
Experienced survivor and sage
And then you do something stupid again
No matter your state or your age.

I've spent all my life being stupid.
I have to admit that it's true.
But between the mistakes I have done what it takes
To make a small difference to you.

I was watching Worlds
moving past and through my own.
They returned my intrigue with wariness,
if anything at all.

Why do they view me
with only misgiving
and indifference?

The glass's glare answered the question
before it could be posed,
signaling back to me
the separation it represents.

It was I who had declared myself as Other—
watching, as a spectator,
the Worlds of the Living.