She steps
in tune
with night,
with moon,
to trace
the runes
of power.

July,
too soon,
will come—
she’ll swoon,
her lands
festooned
with flowers.

Gather me upon the wind,
       so I may whisper words
                                        of serenity.

Gather me upon the ground,
         so I may feel the footsteps of
                                  another's life.

Gather me upon the waters,
        so I may wash within the
               memories of teardrops.

Gather me upon the embers
            so that I may warm upon
                      the thoughts of others.

We may gather for many reasons,  
              different aspects of the same
                                                  wanting.

But we all have that moment in life
                   where each one will touch
                                             our lives.

Herald of the sacred keep
Thunder in his gilded hand
Stirring all the souls who weep
Into realms of floating sand

Cigarette burnt skin
Rise from within
Marks of the mind
Memories unfold
Unraveled and intertwined
The moments were left short
Though all traces last
Falling to the sky
Racing lungs bite
Pinching and clutching breath
What is the punishment of lust?
Could their loves be condemned?

give me attention
i'm new i'm cool
I need people to give me those views
please leave a like
I need attention i want to be truly famous
it dosen't matter whether i care about you or not
I want my money an absolute lot
I don't care that i'm not a good person or an ignorant ****
I want money and attention right now
but for some reason in all this time i haven't been successful at all

Sun is different today
It's blazing rays of light
Hurts me **** much
That I started to hate
Seeing it now a days

Used to loved the rays
That touches my skin
But now it burns
Not minding how it hurts
Torturous every time

Used to help grow things
But now it kills
Not sure what to do
Confused all over again, maybe
Just maybe, it's not the sun

But that caused it
That's killing....
Maybe it's me...
Maybe it's me...
Maybe ...

Panicking in my mind
Seated in my dark corner
My heart beating so fast
Thoughts running around

Smoking at the rooftop
Slowly ******* the air in
Blowing the smokes out
Seeing vision passes by

Drinking with the darkness
Slowed sip from my glass
Sweat trickle down my back
Time stops, feeling numb

Tears falling down my face
Constricting pain in my heart
Sounds coming out in my lips
Body uncontrollably shaking

My life passes by in front of me
Wasted years of loving you
Why do I feel you hated me?
What is wrong with me?

Sobbing like a lost child
Feeling alone and afraid
Hated myself much more
Closing my eyes to sleep

Five o'clock in the morning when
Sun rises looking at the waiting
Moon as his rays hide the glow.

Morning came the summer time,
Flowers bloom with morning dews,
Buzzing bees harvest honey dews.

Six o'clock in the evening when the
Moon shines, a brief caress to the
Sun before it blends with darkness.

Creatures of the night start to awaken,
Fruit bats flying out from their caves,
Fruits bearing trees for their buffet.

Wind brings to me in this dark corner
The scent of the night's flowers and
The sounds of the howling wolf.

In every pencils that
I have used to draw lines,
in different colors and
in different hue,
different it maybe but
what a beautiful
combination they are
when together as one.

In every water color
I have used to draw,
when I was young.
The canvas got messy and
looks useless.
When they dried up
they come alive, and
it becomes a new life.

In every brush strokes of
colors that touches my life.
It made me laugh,
it made me cry,
it even made me mad but
I am thankful for touching
my life at least I know
I'm still alive.

In every charcoal I've tried,
all I did was to mess
things up on canvas,
but my sister told me
to keep trying.
I tried and tried but
I think I have to stop now.
I'm tired.

When I was young,
I'm afraid to draw in
a white canvas.
Afraid to smear dirt on it.
Afraid to even try to draw a line.
Afraid, just afraid.

When I got brave
enough to draw a line.
I tried to draw at the back of
every calendar leaves that
my Mom tears down.
Afraid, still afraid.

When I got old enough
to be adventurous in life.
I bought pencils,
colored ones to try putting
colors in my drawings.
Afraid, very afraid.

Until One day,

I don't want to
draw anymore.

Not even a line.
Not even a dot.

I got broken.