One side hope
Another despair
One side purpose
Another empty air
How misleading perspective can be
Observing barriers high
Limited to what one can see,
Or rather... what one can believe.

To live a life only witnessing disrepair
Not looking to find a path fair
Leaves one to fall unaware
Into a hole deep full of sorrowful mare.

To live devoid of life
Rejecting happiness for lonely strife
Not seeking the warmth
Of the human hand
Unable to accept such unstable land.
Because...
One's capacity reached,
One's limits breached
Broken,
Bleeds,
Conflicted,
Pleads,
Alone,
Recedes...
In­to darkness.
Darkness is an abode...
Darkness,
No light to pull one's soul
Darkness,
Darkness is unknown
No need to release the burdens one holds
Darkness...
A place for those blind to light,
Unable to feel
The warmth of human beings.

Some live a life of hope,
Others of despair
Unable to see
The ability of repair
How misleading can one's eyes be,
As darkness envelopes one bare
Not showing you the true colours
That the darkness contains...

judgment pales when order is broken
engulfed and corrupt in all that gets spoken
and links to a lost lamenting sorrow
we must turn to beg, steal and borrow

a touch of adore and affectionate surprise
reminiscence and memories deep in your eyes
turns heads then hearts and snaps to attention
faltering apologetically at the mere mention

adrift adeptly to order the cure
so plainly and succinctly she can act demure
eliminate sadness complacency or shame
abruptly parting and now placing the blame

recalcitrant and diminished... hang on and hold tight
amused and bemused now in distant flight
like unwelcomed thoughts cutting and cold
all will be judged when this story gets told

Imagine waking up on a filthy, uneven floor -
light coming solely through the flimsy wooden wall.

Imagine trudging through the mud barefoot -
mud merged with remnants of God knows who.

Imagine breathing in thick layers of sooty dust -
the colors sullen, lifeless and dull.

Imagine smelling the scent of faeces and decay,
of diseases and of death every single day.

Imagine your belly gurgling with hunger and distraught,
sniffing glue - the only way to delude.

Imagine walking on rickety bridges -
a step amiss and drown you will in these murky watery ditches.

Imagine wearing the same old rags - all tattered and torn,
being beaten and battered, no rights of which to call your own.

Imagine having silly daydreams of going to school
but there's not a penny to spare - not even for a worn-out book.

But alas, imagine no more for such children exist,
with ghosts clouding their starry dreams
And death hanging heavy upon their tiny, little feet.

Weave dreams to each other
Like a yarn weave together
Overlap one to the other
Lovingly tighten it to knots.

Every happiness another yarn weave
Broken yarn of weaken knots
Another yarn to tighten them up
Lovingly weave together as one.

I've never had the most solid sense of direction.
I've this bad habit of getting lost;
first in thought and then, well,
literally.

But I've written things this whole time,
and every line is an arrow so that I can find my way back.
Back to some kind of bliss.
A state of mind that I can no longer feel,
but I know that I miss.

But isn't there a part in that story where the bread crumbs have been eaten by birds?

I can't remember.

If you love life, life will love you back, you said to me.
But you took my life with you.
You took my trust with you.
You seem to be doing just fine,
But I'm sitting here crying.
I'm sitting here with high hopes.
Hopes that'll only bring me down.
The one thing that was always certain and set in stone in my life,
Has now crumbled and broken.
Where do I turn?
Where did I go wrong?
You're gone,
And so is my world.