That’s talent
Sniffing out drugs
Down two floors
Down deep in the recess
Of your drawer
Because it lay
Down deep in the recess
Of my mind
Down two floors
Stored for a slow
Calculated
Take down of your mind
Whilst it picks away
At my carefully
Orchestrated sobriety
Down deep
Layered over
With career
With kids
With paint
With healing sounds
Don’t come around here no more
But it do
But it do
Cause I’ve got a talent
for Sniffing out
The drudgery
For sniffing out
The dark side
Wars colliding in my mind
Cause the army I built is
Only as good as the fort I built in front of them.
And this nose. This nose..
I’ve got a talent.

Your talents and intelligent was a treasure.
You were a great artist even if you weren't sure.
You are a beautiful gift given by the heaven,
So put a smile that will struck a maiden.

t.
it's a malignant disease
a six-letter word; tipping off tongues
armed with locks and keys.
cloaked within the folds of lucid sight,
its bare grip, it holds tight,
suspending a sonorous expression of disbelief.

a.
there is no direction.
instead we are shoved onto the stage of shadows
for a lifetime of grief,
clinging to words of forgotten past.
if self-recognition is a sin,
then I am a glutton
starving for their hungry eyes.

l.
and so, insecurities grow,
and without mention
we chase for the escape to break surface tension.
rushing to dreams we were meant to prolong -
and although we're given choice,
we're still hunted in this vicious game
forced to put down
forced to ease
mirages,
conjured by delusions that everlast the time we're given...

e.
yet in my sleep I ask for mercy,
and glass eyes never shut.
I know I've lost my sheen,
still I yearn to deceive
poor reflections that plastered smiles
can no longer convey.

n.
oh the pride of the gifted!
how it has bestowed immortality to me
in this foreign home called vertigo;
now all I do is scream to slow down
on this never-ending highway,
polishing this obsession for perfection.

t.
my passion's run away,
i don't know who to please...
so to the victims of the pride:
forgive me.

An ordinary river is continuously flowing,
Where different water species are roaming,
But none of them are really surviving,
They stay for a while and later end up dying.
Until one day a master came in,
Everyday he is deeply staring,
He noticed a fish that is not dying nor moving,
That made the river realize the fish is not leaving,
Together, the river and the fish began blooming,
People started recognizing, visiting and appreciating,
From then on both the river and the fish live to be seizing.

A rare and rather precious bloom

The shining light in a darkened room

Someone special

Now and then

Gets closest to a perfect ten

The rest of us live in their shade

They never last

All flowers fade

Phenomenons are born not made