Take me.
If only for a moment.
To heaven.
Where angels fly.
Where God is.
On his thrown.
And life is better.
Jesus sets beside.
Like a faithful son.
Do his father's will.
So I say.
Take me.
To heaven.
The end

There's this place
Where you can be anyone,
Anything, even
Princess or a Prince
Santa even Pan
Flying with the stars and moon

Where you'll meet the nicest ones
Down to Satan's closest relatives
A place where lying is permanent,
Being fake is constant

Where you can cheat reality,
And fool yourself endlessly
And this
—My haven.

In the depths
Under layers of a dilemma
Making a decision
Amidst questionable doubts

Holding on
With all I've got
Tugging along
With all I have

Come what may
Storms and hurricanes
Earthquakes and disasters
Even an apocalypse

Grant me that allowance
To fight
Like the warrior you know me to be
I'm ready for a war
A war unexpected

*For there is a place
I long to be...
That...


Haven


In which I have set my eyes upon...

On a Sunday Morning, past midnight at 2
The curtains danced to the faint blowing of an open window,
Welcoming the soft serenade of a young born season.
Tenderly brushing against the moon-kissed concrete and cemented barriers,
Awake was a soul secluded yet only six inches laid between them.
Surrounded by a hedge of sturdy bookshelves and custom-made decors
The soul watched their towers dominate over their demons,
Certain of the security and what they had to offer.
Needless to say, this was their safest haven,
A place they can call their own.

But there was something reassuring
About the subtlety of the melody that played
On a Sunday, past midnight at 2 in the morning.
The air breathing in life into crisp pages
And knocking gently, elegantly on the tempered surfaces
Although life only played behind a curtain,
Hands that held only books and pens,
Eventually craved for the outside’s blessing
And awake was a soul patiently waiting for its turn.

(n.j.)