O, feckless dart of immeasurable delight!
Wouldst thou direct elsewhere your flight,
And refute my rival’s gentleman claim,
That he be immune to Cupid’s aim.

His smug sobriety remains intact,
His pages blithe and matter-of-fact,
Where my poor pen is inked with woe,
And ****** to hell by quiver and bow.

O, mischievous boy do grant my request!
Whether modest maid or comely *****,
His downfall ensured by one bold kiss,
Shoot low, shoot high, but do not miss.

In a place full of terror
All I can see is the darkness
Black as the raven flying in the midst of nowhere
All I want is nothing but the blinding beam of light from the sun

I hear your voice shouting my name across the mountain of shame and hatred
Where I lay stuck with my thoughts of suicide
Catastrophic wails not heard from that mountain
No one, no one is there

Can I have at least one day more
To be delightful instead of feeling distraught
To see the sunshine kissing the clouds right before the twilight
To be happy, that’s all I ask for

I am close to abandoning all hope
And entering the ****** gates of inferno
But one striking light dawned upon this destructed entity
And saved me from the ocean of despair

Until I woke from this desolation
Realizing everything was a nightmare
For life is just a cycle of bliss and woe
All you have to do is have courage and fight your deepest fears

though a joy, a laugh,
for lonely forms.
on grim evenings,
he craves control....

his soul threaded to countless strings
all tugged and ****** by his woeful skin
after several flawed attempts
his burdened psyche
gives a clamorous roar

for he believed
he had been, the puppeteer

I sat by the window,peering into the street.
That street I had seen too many brawls in,
And had enjoyed the people celebrate,
And had seen people leave and come,
And had known those kids,who played there,
Fading into the nothingness of adulthood.
I was one of them too,perhaps.

In that tattered dress of life,
I sat by the window,
Looking into the past.
And tears came out paving my cheeks,
For a stream of unchartered emotions.
And those emitions welcoming a whole stampede,
Of memories,killing me inside out.

While by that window,
Whose glass had been blurred by the ruthlessness of time,
I hesitated to face myself.
I had regrets,too many to name any,
I had done myself wrongs,
But quite fortunately,forfeit was to be paid,
And was to be paid the next day,by myself to me!

I am your hostage
You locked me up inside a rusty, quaint cage
I can't move, I am tied
My heart's in hysteria, I could have died
I can't even utter a single word
My body's numb from this tight prickly chord
I have lost, I let myself get captivated
By romantic trifles that will never be reciprocated.

Ground's bare but we two filled it
With footprints chasing each other heartily
But those were superseded past a minute
With footmarks of separating ways painfully.

Woeful,white wisp of the vile winter falls,
Upon the lifeless gray trees,by the road
(That leads to the city of 'quiet' brawls),
Dying in silent miserable abode.

As the eve further pours its mystic mist,
A somber thought of unsavory past,
Does,in my wilting heart,ruthlessly list,
The wild, pitiless curses that you cast.

Yet,of things I recall from December,
You lie unsurpassed,you lie far above,
The only shade of pink,I remember,
And yes,the only shade of pink I love.

Why should I then with this sorry face talk,
When toward you,I unwarily walk?

Indescribable
is the woe I felt
at witnessing the
cruel aftermath
of heartbreak,
and struggling
to mend it.

What a sad laugh, a sad smile— to say the truth, it was a vivacious one. But it hides a thousand words, a thousand of thoughts, a thousands of emotions. And not one was a good one. Tragic, sorrow, woe, pain— they're all in it.

Her body is but a cage of a swirling storm of thoughts, while her physique was the eye of the typhoon. It was calm, it was solemn. No one knows her dealings inside. Her screams, her cries.

It was locked—no, not locked but no one just noticed. No one CARED to notice. She was just a lone being, S. O. S. written with her own blood on the walls. She then knot a tie around the ceiling and surround her neck by the circular rope.

She kicked the stool she stood on and hanged herself with a smile in face, not squirming in the squeeze in her neck. When death was about to surface, she opened her mouth with a struggling breathless whisper— I'm finally free.