Dearest mine I love you It's no crime My love is divine Small things Make you whine You're a slave of wine Everything with you isn't fine I am concerned I love you Wine doesn't You must discern You drink the nectar Of my love You would find it A better stuff More and more I would love It would protect you Against misiles scud All your sorrows Fall with a thud For my love is divine One day you too Would rhyme Love, love It's fine to love For it's divine Now I end this note On an optimistic note I am yours lovingly LOVE!
What kind of animal Ringing his death knell Cuts 10 billion trees a year Plants only the half What kind of animal Ringing his death knell Sometimes, I wonder What's kind about him His fraternity mankind Manbrute the dialectics He uproots his greatest friends Makes way for his enemies What kind of animal Ringing his death knell Know thy friends' great qualities O brute of mankind One tree provides oxygen For four of thy clan For their survival on this planet Breathes in carbon dioxide Defending ozone layer's defence Dust hesitates to rise In air to suspend Less by seventy percent Near a row of trees Noise reduces by fifty percent Peace and peaceful is clime A tree cools as if an air conditioner in a big house Stop ring thy death knell O brute of mankind Plant trees everywhere Nourish as if thy child Protect thy environment If thou wish to survive And lead a quality life
When the moon starts to glow, we go to sleep. As the sun begins to shine, we rise from slumber. It is the cycle of life; one cannot cope without the other.
There are animals and plants in a forest that decrease in numbers, everything else is becoming objects and lumber. Animals breathe what our nature exudes. Plants feed from the rain and the sun. All that lives is in balance and holiness that defies imbalance and loneliness.
Some people don't think of what our nature eludes. They are sticking to lack of emotions for a personal gain. Their playing with guns goes on and on. Fun ain't emotionless and it's no and no.
The very balance in our world depends on ourselves for we should unite as one to withstand tyranny, thus, the beast in his lair will cease to feast. Infamies and felonies will turn to clarity and purity.
Come one, come two, it's up to you and it is not something new we have to do. Come three, come free. It is destiny, can't you see? Come four and come more. Unite by the destiny's door.
a mouse under a rock she peers out to see the world green! blue! white! a stream, winding down the hillside a lush forest full of life and breath clouds that drift overhead but the shadow of a predator falls and sends chills down her spine the mouse retreats.
a mouse under a rock peeks out once again sunlight! grass! wind! the cascading of a falls not too far a swimming hole, perhaps surrounded in trees and mud but the predator is back, so the mouse hides again.
you say that you, when something happens, choose fight over flight. yet. whenever I'm in trouble or sad or panicking or numb or angry or bloodied or bruised you run, you freak out, you leave, you vanish. you fly away, raven. so perching myself on this boney finger of Death's I, the crow, will caw until you return "to protect."