I know the end;
like the harsh shine of the sun,
and the soft glow of the moon.
One comes around,
and the other turns away.
Like a grand finale,

into a fresh, new start.

I know the end;
like coastal waters.
Rushing to the shore
and drifting away,
bringing when it returns

cold tsunami, or gentle wave.

I know the end;
like a distant friend
that laughs over the phone,

sometimes you never meet again.

I know the end,
it’s closer than one can see.

But after the end,


comes a new beginning.

Why it's always late ?
To talk to her
To tell her
To stop her
To ask for forgiveness
To say it is okay

Why it's always late ?
To said

Make peace with the past or it will consume you.
Like a tiger gnawing on bones, the days of our
ancestors will consume those who cannot lay them
to rest. A one-sided story is a lie of omission.
Happy endings exist on the last page of a book.
They do not expand into reality like an owl
spreading its silent wings. The owl’s life ends
after a new owl’s life begins. There is no true ending.

This is the truth. Make peace with it and find your
future in the past. Time is not a start nor an end.
It is millions of concentric circles that overlap
and repeat in a never-ending artwork. Whether
there is meaning in the artist’s intention is of no
consequence. There is meaning found in every
overlapping line. Meaning can be found at every
point where two circles connect. Without these
interacting shapes, the world would lose purpose.

If they doubt I'm so young,
But simply agree with the rest,
Does that mean I've finally reached a point,
Where I am so good,
There's only up?
Or will I come crashing down,
Is youth my key to fame,
Will they still read me when I grow old,
And this number fades away?
When my hair thins and grays,
Will my name?
Or will I pave my way to legacy?
My ink has a clock,
I'm afraid of it ticking down.

No soul paid witness,
To the burst of light,
At the beginning of time.

No soul saw the magic,
As it grew, forming the light,
Forming the dark.

No soul heard the heavenly spirits call,
From the risers of the stars,
Down to earth to raise the first dawn.

So all we have is faith,
A lone tie to what we failed to see.

They say time heal all wounds
And though that may be true
For the majority of scenarios
It’s not an irrefutable fact

For our childhood scratches
May be a fleeting kind of pain
Yet there are some scars that life
Engraves deep within our soul

Like a bullet whose trajectory
Missed my heart by a few inches
But hit a far more damaging target
My very last bit of innocence

Now, when I look into the mirror
Every broken bone lost its meaning
And the echoes of who I once was
Are all that remains to be seen

The first time around,
We didn't plan,
We talked in tomorrows,
Because we knew it would end.

Yet on our second go,
We planned it all out,
Now we talk in years,
Because I only have to wait seven more,
Before I can put a ring on your pretty finger,
Though for now that's fantasy.