Air is perfume-light
Elbows sank in my pillow
I wake from slumber

Chamber door opens
Handmaiden brings good tidings
from outer Kingdoms

Holds a silver tray
With scones, jam and honey for
some chamomile tea

Steaming hot china
which I blow and gently sip
I hum in delight

Come, some scrambled eggs
With toast and ice-cold fresh fruits
Lemon slice in tea

The handmaiden speaks
As she opens the curtains
The sun shines brightly

Many ships have docked
My kingdom grows in strength
and in its beauty

Another handmaid
Holding a tray of pure gold
I see its contents

White and gold letters
Written by your regal hands
Kingdoms near and wide

Handmaids open them
So many sweet messages
Blessings and congrats

While sipping my tea
I ask for my page and quill
Write with golden ink

In the shade of green
Past orchids and blossoms
are roses in bloom

Duties getting hard
But I know I will succeed
My mind remains calm

Studies nearly done
I have learned and overcome
No longer a bud

A bright horizon
Though feeling stressed, I'm smiling
My Kingdom will grow

In the shade of green
Hushing winds bring me birdsongs
As I pick the rose

My diadem glitters
New knowledge now grows in mind
A bud no longer

When I think of all the tears and turbulence life has
given me, it sometimes makes me hard for
me to forgive this world

I usually would find peace in the solitude
and my waters would be still. I'd
honestly prefer that than to
feel alone amidst this
sea of life

But now, I've learned to dance with the
naiads by the Springs of Many Lives.
With her hand in mind, the life-stream
strums and begins to form rings

Each ripple made is a bond that
grows stronger in time
Each one beaming
with many hues

Now I see, the true beauty of life.
The waters will run hot, cold and
warm. We all will dance
different dances.

But the Naiads show me the beautiful
bonds I have made with my fellow
Kings and Queens on HP from all
walks of life who wear their
crowns with pride.

That is a life I yearn for.

For my diadem to be made of
pure starlight.

For me to have such understanding
makes me shed true
tears of joy.

Destiny is so playful,
It makes the wise a fool.
To a person's life it always rule;
Can be good, can also be cruel.

Chance given by destiny
I can't believe this, hardly
Opportunity shown by fate,
Proof that it's never too late.

You and I are now close
This is the path I chose
When I'm with you, I no longer froze
Like a pill with the right dose.

I now admit it...
Even you and I don't fit...
To you, I am in love.
Though, you can never return what I have.

It feel so right, though, its wrong...
But these feelings are too strong.
To me, you don't belong.
Heart beats as loud as gong.

sounds can testify the details of a picture
whilst unholy orbs can earwitness the vowels and consonants
beneath the smoke is an ibidem treasure
nothing but the end of the line of the coincidence

there's something about the heat,
the taste,
the texture,
and the rhythm,
that puts each creature in a strange addiction
it draws me in a helix composition
or a different compensation
and most of all,
i'm bottled up in a wild satisfaction

my mundane hours would feel extra deserted
just like my camel stick when it's unkindled
i might hate seeing―experiencing typical things
but never tired of this kind of habit that seems brittle
or a sense of rage, not even a little
because of every sip,
my piercing thoughts became a whistle

as soon as i light up a coffin nail
my veins will finally ignite, once again
the dark shack i'm in will be darker
but brighter in my eyes
then my lonely spirit will be lonelier
but i'd have unseen friends in disguise

the subdued toxins will shatter in ashes
but it won't break like my positive qualities mixing in the air
turns out i'm not sniffing the exasperating scent
merely engulfing the ache and the rasp regrets

my peeves shall drown in my foggy statements
letting my weight float through the clouds
mind's hazy,
vision's blurry,
tears shiny,
and heart's happy,
yet the sadness would still creep when the last breath's out

the aftertaste should be really more ravishing
similar to the catchy tunes of 'offonoff'
feverless, manipulating, non-colorless
and especially, not quiddity-vanishing

the nicotine never fails to send me over in a mnemonic mess
directing me in a festinate loop in so many ways
the menthol touch wouldn't be as cold as the other people nowadays,
but when they ask, they'd question;
"what was the song, by the way?",
i'd stumble and fall with my laconic disorder
inside my head like a wounded cassette
then i'll answer,
it's cigarette

Through a small window
I see a tree and day sky
Ism't life lovely

I'm due a smear test
It's not very pleasant but
it can save your life