Pride says, "look at who you'll become!"
Greed says, "look at all that you'll get"
Lust says, "look at who you can use"

The temptations of this unholy trinity
seep in to ****** such a soul as this
stubbornly wanting to give in
when

Humility exhorts, "this is not about you"
Moderation teaches, "you do not need all this"
and Love preaches

"Give yourself away
Deny yourself
Crucify this flesh
Pick up your cross"

Love says
"Look at the lives you can save with your very own"

Love says
"What can I do for you?"

O Lord
Let me weep
Let me be sorrowful
For the things of this world
do not satisfy.

O Lord
Make me weep
Make me sorrowful
For I know
the great weight of my sin.

O Lord
Blot out my iniquities,
my sin, my shame
oh how I wish
to be clean again!

But let me be, dear Lord.
Don't come close
For I am a sinful man.
What have I done to deserve
Your mercy? O Lord
The Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

O Lord
Make me weep
Let me be sorrowful
Like Peter after his denial
Like Judas after his betrayal
After he handed you over
to the darkness.

O Lord
Let me weep
Let me be sorrowful
For are You not worth more
than 30 pieces of silver?

The cross made of ash
on the forehead:
a reminder of the love
given to us
for eternity.

Of all days,
It is this day that
we celebrate love.
But why not everyday?

Seeing how
we were from dust
and to dust
we shall return.

Before we are burnt to ashes
and return to dust,
may Love burn
brighter than any star we can find.

May we know
Love's true value
before throwing it
to the flames.

She dyed her hair
violet and blonde;
a shade of maroon waves through
her lips
pouting
with her head bent low

Wondering
how can this be?
And her eyes batter
with their lashes, they flatter

She looks on longingly
Waiting for the day
she returns home.

She picks up the phone
her only source of company
searching through her sea of friends
and she sees their faces

She sighs and wonders
How can this be?

She awaits the day she returns home
patiently
sitting there
like the beauty
she is created to be

What a sight to behold
though I have yet to know
her name

I look on, patiently
still waiting
for my train to arrive at my stop
waiting for when I can
go home.

”Home is where the heart is”
Yes, but home is not confined to these four walls
in which we reside.

Home,
is more than just a house
made by

    human
    
                        hands.

It is in the heart,
     that pumps the very blood that runs thicker
than water.
But water is needed for blood to keep running
So,
       what. is. home?

Home,
   is who we are
   is where we belong

Home,
is how we have become,
how we have come
a long way from,
and where we return to.

Like nomads,
it is where we are found.


Home,
      is where we are...

"**** it"
no
I refuted

I said,
"Bless it"

The world is enough a hell to be ******
Why curse it further?

Big brother
He wanders on his own
In the jungle
No one to call his own

But he has a heart full of love to give
"Is there anyone for me to love?"
He wonders
So he sets out on an adventure

He climbed hills and
marched through valleys
Gentle as he can be
He picks up the little squirrels
fallen from the tree

He stops for a while
and lets birds rest on his back
from all their flying and tweeting.

He looks out for the cubs
and stands guard for their protection
And graces with his presence
those in need of affection

And still this grizzly bear
moves forward on his own
Eats alone, sleeps alone.
Sometimes he's lonely.

But he looks up to see the Sun
smiling down on him
and gives him warmth and
a bright shine on his
glorious brown coat

And though a hunter's spear
may strike through his heart
already broken
these words of love pours out
onto the ground
for nobody to call his own
and yet still to love

"Brother bear cares"

Little child dancing
freely in the public square,
may you live boldly.

Little boy singing
lovely within her midst,
grace your sister's ears.

Little kid running
through life's maze without a care-
Please be free, be free.

Little child growing
up through all life's burdens be
always sweet and true.

More often than not,
I have no idea

what the hell am I doing.

Pull the strings,
then release.
Feel the vibrations;
face the music.

Pull the trigger,
then release.
Feel the vibrations;
face the music.

Press the button,
then release.
Feel the vibrations;
face the music.

Press on in prayer,
then release.
Feel the vibrations;
face the music.

For with every move
there is vibration;
a sound that
makes music.

For with every action
comes consequence.
Pull the strings,
face the music.

What does it mean
to be human
to know
to learn

To love?
How do we define
something once so divine
when the depths of our depravity
is what made its demise?

So we let out
a deep sigh,
wave our hopes and dreams
goodbye
and cry as we wait

For our love to be found.

I see
the fear in my father’s eyes
as he beheld the world fall,
as he screams through
the wall,
and starts to lose it all.

I see
the fear in his eyes
when he gives me
an hour’s worth
of lecture
as he tries to
tell me to do
better.

His pain
he does not keep;
he has kept his hurt in
for far too long
already.

He sees
the world around me
crumble
as buildings topple
over one another
and he sees
my position
under the rubble.

He weeps
as he predicts the day
I die
by sword or by stone.
He unleashes his wrath of
frustrations
he’s been through

“Don’t die, son.
Keep staying alive.
Keep breathing,
keep moving,
keep working
to survive.”

I see
the fear in my father’s eyes
as he beheld the world fall
He does not want me
to lose it all
He does not want me
to lose.

“Survive, son.”
It’s okay, Pa.
Don’t worry.

I’ll live.

When Death's angel
knocks at the door
and the time
befall

All we could do
is grieve
and weep.

Behold
at last,
the time has come
someone
just has to
leave.

And when it comes
behold one
fall

Nothing to do
but grieve
and weep.

When the night
befall
and darkness reigns
the hour,
grief strikes the heart
closest to the fallen.

All we could do
is sit and watch them
mesmerised, frightened
paralysed with terror,
fearing Death and its dark angel
as we sympathise with the grieving.

Death awaits us all;
It is a sure reminder,
the millions of souls
captured and stolen,
the lives it murdered,
the bodies left behind...

Never to be forgotten.

What to do
but sit in silence
nothing more than

to grieve and weep.

All I'd like
right now
are some earphones

Just so I could
kick back,
relax
hear the music
slow dance in my ears

Hear
the beat
and every rhythm
swing

Look up
watch the stars
as they sing
sweet Hallelujah's

As I drive past
the night sky,
I lay back in my seat
and pretend to be
in some fantasy

A music video
could almost portray
reality

But my reality
no more
than the music
in my head

The songs not said

The lyrics
I dare breathe
if not written
much less sung aloud

No more
than
the moment
of having earphones
in my ears.

I write my songs
in the echo chambers
of my heart
a deep dark dungeon
of hellfire and unclean secrets
only ever have my eyes seen
my ears heard
and my heart keep
my demons
tremble in awe
of the songs I sing in the night
Like a lamp in the corner of a dark house
I wait for next morning
I wait for a new sun to arise
and resurrect me from this decaying carcass
So that my soul can echo the song of twelve thousand elders and saints singing
Glory, Hallelujah
I've been set free
But until that day comes
I shall echo in the chambers
and echo in the airwaves
and wave my hands in
surrender
Here I am on my knees
Almost giving up
Almost giving in
Almost giving
Always
Giving
Echoes
of a desperate dying heart
hoping and waiting
for such a day to come
Glory
Be
To
God

and in that long embrace
did I sense
depths of longing
abundant yearning
cries of desperation
enclosed in that tiny frame
cleaved unto my chest

my heart hears
and aches with her
breaks, and cries with her
longing for
her pains to resolve
for peace to set in at ease
for my warmth to grant
blessed reassurance

but alas
I am no saviour
barely a lover
just a friend
only shall I ever be
there by her side
in earnest prayer
in hope that
breakthrough arrives
and salvation draws near.

The fault with seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses is that we do not know when to stop.

When the lights at the crossroads flicker red, all we see is light, not colour.

We run, we hide in nostalgia’s walls, playing with the toys we grew out of, talking to the skeletons in our closet.

“Life is so strange,” we say, as though we are no stranger ourselves.

Romanticise, don’t realise
love is like hate
passion like anger, anxiety
and blood, just another fluid

Roses, red all the same

Wine, flows through oesophagus like water flowing like tears of the child’s sighs at night yearning for a relief of the pain of a

strange life

being no stranger ourselves

seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses

not knowing when to stop.

When I receive flowers from someone
it makes me feel...
strange

I've never received flowers before.

Only ever reserved for special occasions,
Weddings, vacations...
Funerals

In life or death
flowers
symbolise a certain affection for life
and cherishes a life that has perished

In a sense,
We are all flowers in a vast garden
Hidden among grass
Only seen by those closest to us
And reserved for special occasions.

If I were to receive a flower from you,
give then yourself to me,
and may we each other feel only
love.

We sealed our fate
when our eyes met each other's;
When I saw you
I envisioned every possible future
about to materialise into reality's present.

We sealed our acquaintance
with the firm shake of a hand,
looking forward to working with you
was all the pleasure I anticipated.

We sealed our friendship
with a hug;
We shared many thoughts,
we valued each little insight we had.
We shared some laughs,
exchanged smiles.

See, relationships prove to be
the bedrock of civilisation
and the connections between us
felt like kingdoms of galaxies
under our command

I envisioned every single possibility with you.
Yet, I cannot see through the next step
When we shall seal our fate with a kiss,
and journey through the storms of life
together

With you by my side.

There's a silence between us
unspoken of
a void,
if I dare say.

There are times
we may be close
but we are more unknown
to each other
than we really think.

Friend,
why are you so distant?
I understand
that you understand
that people come and go

But
why push me away?
I want to say
that it's okay
for longer
I want to stay.

I understand
that you're use to losing people
and you're no longer afraid
should I leave you.

True,
I do not know what goes on
in the depths of your mind
in the abyss of this great sea.

I do not know
the battles you've faced
the demons you have fought
the nightmares that choke
the reality out of you.

I may not know
what it feels like
to have severe anxiety,
to have panic attacks every once in a while,
to have social problems,
the list will go on...

I may not know everything about you
But I know this:
you are the most honest person
I have ever met.
And this honesty,
honestly, I must say,
It is bittersweet.

Truth be told,
I may not like everything you say
But I accept it.

Because,
What is truth if it doesn't hurt?

I don't know
why you are silent.
Maybe you figured,
without me
or anybody for that matter
that you'll be strong.

Don't get me wrong,
I know you are strong.
But you are also wrong
about one thing.

You may think I will leave you
Maybe, but still
not immediately
not yet.

I will keep waiting
right here, if you need a friend.
If time should separate us,
or you push me away and grow cold,
I'll still be here.

I'll still be
your friend.

My heart yearns, it thirsts
hungers
pangs
longing to see the reality
not our reality
but
Truth

My heart, it hurts
it breaks
it longs for
you,
I,
people
People in need, hungry, broken, lacking
longing for
love, joy, peace, patience, kindness,
faithfulness
longing for
control
over
chaos

My eyes
they burst into tears
pour out a liquid offering
on the altar of deep cries
My body given in to relentless toil
a sacrifice on the altar of selflessness
My soul burst into flames
a passion reignited
to seek
to love
to know.


My God,
lest I forget
that with all these things I have and give
that the One thing I only need is You.
For apart from You,
It is all for naught.

Is it wrong
to say
"I love you"?

Oh how gladly
I received you.

Grace,
   a fair maiden
   is she.

Her beauty is
     long-lasting,
Her character
     amiable.

She is a woman of
high value;
Even I
don't deserve you!

Yet,
   the grace that you show
   just loves me for
   who I am

And shown in
these lovely songs
which I write.

Let me sing
   a melody
of your
     sweet virtue;

" O When can
your beauty fade!?" ~

Of your great counsel
fair maiden,
that I may
pursue

This everlasting grace
t'was once found
in you.

Temptation knocks at my door
tonight,
Wanting to come in.
Wanting
to make a fool
out of me.

She flirts so audaciously
willing to fornicate,
To please her
To please me

But this isn't right.

Sin crouches at my door
tonight,
Waiting to strike.
To barge in,
To attack,
Hold nothing back.

Temptation thus leads
my downfall
and Sin,
the cause of my death.

What hope shall there be
of a ressurection?

It was my past
That held me back
From achieving eternal destiny

But when I looked back
Into the past
I see a heavenly assignment
accomplished

That on my behalf
A price was paid
So that I may enter
The pearly gates

The streets of gold
The walls of diamond
The choir of heaven's
angels roar

It was that past
when I looked back
that I'm now able
to venture forward.

Help me heal.
This world is full of evil.

I’ve seen things I wish I didn’t see
Heard things I wish I didn’t hear
And spoken things
I wish
I didn’t speak.

I wish I could just be silent.

Help me heal

Help me turn away
from the darkness

Let me search for the light.

This evil
tastes so good
but hurts just as bad.

It is no use

I am unhealthy
Sick
Weary
Tired.

Help me heal

No matter how many times
God can forgive me,
It’s no use to keep saying sorry
And not mean it.

And what more to ask for healing,
when I keep getting sick?

Help me heal, though.

I need to get rid of the cancer
in my bones
the sins
in my soul

Help me heal
Before you know

It’s too late.

If Rome
was built in a day,
Anything is possible.

If the Earth
was created
in 6 days,
then nothing is impossible.

If I can
build my mind
my thought
my opinion
in a split second
it’s a possibility that

it’s just me.

But things take longer
than usual.

Feels impossible,
no?

I like how
the paper
has its purpose,
but of which only
lead and ink
can fulfill.

A piece of paper
is just another blank slate,
waiting for a miracle,
waiting for life to leak
into the lines of its veins.

Just waiting for
words,
ideas,
doodles and sketches
poems, puns
works of art
Just waiting
for the meaning to its existence.

But little do we know
that the paper
is its purpose;
to create something
out of nothing;
to give life
to the lifeless.

Paper,
is everything like
opportunities given
to us,
and most of all
how we make of it.
_______

I like how
we have a purpose
but of which only
will and work
can fulfill.

And I am,
like any other I will be
just another blank slate
waiting for a miracle,
waiting for life
to flow in my veins.

Just waiting for
words,
meaning;
a purpose.

But little do I know
that I am my own purpose
to make something
out of nothing,
to give meaning to something
meaningless.

Yet, my life
is everything like
wasted opportunity,
bad ideas
on crumpled papers,
torn, shred
and thrown away.

I do not know who
I really am.

Whether I am just
another notebook
to jot important things down,
assignments, homework
or just some
stupid doodles and
useless words
on stanza.

I don’t even know
where I stand now.

I am just
another piece of paper
a purpose, unknown
of which
hopes and dreams
won’t fulfill.

Alas, see one is
become unworthy
to question the mysteries of
salvation and sanctification.

When the believer,
the saint
falls into sin,
he is rendered silent
before the throne of God.

The awkward tension
between friend and foe
is felt.

he asks,
"What does it mean
to be saved?"

And though try as he might,
his jaw is sealed shut;
he dares not make a sound to speak.

Silent as silent accusations
pile upon himself.

In his mind, screaming
"LORD, HAVE MERCY!"
Yet dares not draw near
to pray.

My pen is poised
and ready
to strike
words into meaning
lyrics into song

Writing
my thoughts
where they belong
on paper,
exiled from my heart
like an exodus
into the ink
that spills over

Run away to
a safe place,
O my soul;
Search for the Promise Land
and behold
the memories immortalised

Lest
they become forgotten,
it's futile.
Lost, am I
in the forests
of thought
and care.

As I stare
into the open sky
I think
I try
though God knows
why

My pen is poised,
ready to write,
yet not knowing
how I'd
begin.

I fell in love
with Love.
Ever since our eyes met
when my eyes opened
for the first time.

Love was my childhood love.
She was always there
whispering wonders and cares.
She serenades me with sweet songs
and lullabies that make my heart
give a deep sigh

I want to cry for Love;
I yearn for her.

As I grew up,
I got to know Love.
I grew to understand her deeper
and knew what she really meant.

She taught me how to love
others.
She taught me
that to love others is more important
than to be loved myself.
She taught me to love others
above myself.

She was harsh with her words:
Love taught me
that life is not for me
that love is to be given
and not to be expected in return.

Love loved me
and I did her.
But she was not mine.

Yet she knew it was for the best,
so that I may know her joy
the same joy that is
to give

And still be full.

To love and be loved
is everything;
Yet to love and just be,
is what's worth.

A sweet smile,
A cheerful laugh
full of glee.

O, how she shines
with the sun!

A friend,
if she may
be today
what tomorrow is
to Spring

And as Springtime
arrives,
you'll be glad to see,
the cheer
you'll hear

As she dances
with the daffodils

And Fall may come
Autumn, it may be
She mellows at the beauty
of yellow from the green.

Winter, with its blizzards
and cold nights,
But a friend she may be;
to a snowman, company.

Her sweet smile
therefore, be Summer;
She melts the ice and snow
as the sun arises.

And when the day
comes to pass:
O, what happy day!
Let this be for me

That I'll be
as ever amiable
as thee.

Love me for who I am.
But when the time comes
for me to end,
Let me be among the dead;
Leave me in the grave.

Keep me in your memory;
don't speak wealth
to my name.
Know that I'm gone forever
Forever, far away.

Love me for who I am;
Leave me for who
I will be.

But when I no longer am,
leave me be
within the grave.

If you love me for who I am,
Let praise be spoken
where praise is due;
Know this however:
I am no perfect man.

Don't try to bring life
to these dead bones.
Don't bring me back to life;
don't speak of my name.

I did not ask to seek fame.

If you love me,
keep this commandment
I give thee:

Don't worship me
nor pay tribute
merely in word or song.
But keep me in your memory
and if you want to honour me,
live honourably, not in vain.

Don't lie to yourself.
Don't think I dwell
in the heavenly heights
even though I may be.
Only God determines my fate;
He alone seals my destiny.

Don't weep for me
but for yourselves
and for your children.

And if you love me,
repent and live!
See the Glory
I've shown to you,
though not of my own.

If you love me,
love me for who I am,
and be thankful
when I am gone.

What is worth a writer's many words
When the ink holds your meaning like something
at the tip of your tongue?

When your eyes finally perceive
what your soul feels
and your ears hear
what your spirit receives

When you dwell
be it in high ground
or on low valley
When you look to the sky
or cast your face down to the ground.

You look longingly into eternity
awaiting something all worth more
that this.
Longing for meaning,
purpose,
life,
a reason to live
a reason why you breathe and do the things you do.

Longing for
connection,
relationship;
Longing for
mercy.

It is in the journey of a lifetime
that we realise
the hidden things

When the deep cries out to deeper waters;
When we look longingly
into the mysteries.

Thus it is in those
that our restlessness yields,
and we find peace despite calamity.

When we shall see even the face of God
who once dwelt with us.

What is worth a writer's many words
when the ink holds your meaning like something
at the tip of your tongue?
It is worth more than this,
that meaning be even found in this life
and moves beyond to something much greater
than this.

Mercy came to me
like the answer to my prayer
As I live every day
on borrowed time.

Do you know of such value,
O fellow mere mortals?
Judgment postponed
Death delayed
Life blessed
Grace given
Forgiveness bestowed.

Mercy came to me
by the means of a friend
the answer to my prayer
who prayed for me

As I stirred on
to seek
the deep wonders
of God.

I whispered and sighed,
"How can this be?"
I screamed and cried out
in the wilderness
beholding in awe
glory, majesty
wrath.

Still, mercy came to me
like the sweet answer
to my prayer
consoling and attending
to all my dreaded fears.

Mercy came to me
in the likes of a Person
who loved me and
gave Himself for me.

And now I live
on borrowed time
making the most of every
opportunity while my
judgement is postponed,
death is delayed,
life blessed,
grace given,
forgiveness bestowed.

In time, mercy comes to me
and now I freely give
as I have been given.

Dear darling
I miss the times we could freely say
“I love you” to each other.
Ever more freely express
the mixed feelings we had
towards each other.

This love,
this love was free and open
as free as the birds in the sky can be
so free that it even makes the flowers
dance in the spring

I remember the days
we’d usually chatter away
like the wind that blows by
our conversations are a breeze
yet sometimes, a hurricane.

Dear darling,
I miss you. I miss the days we could freely say
“I love you” to each other.
When our hugs were so tight
these actions spoke louder than those three words.
We were so close yet, now, ever so distant

That closeness which we once had
This love that united us
Gave me a hope for an everlasting warmth.
But now, only a silence between us
This distance, so close yet so far
now gives me chills.
Cold, like your shoulders with your back
turned against me.

I miss our conversations.
I missed the breeze
that kissed my cheek first thing in the morning.
You were the sun to my sky
brightening up my day before it began!

And now, you have become a memory,
leaving a void in this old, wretched heart of mine.
This is where I realised,
this star has died, leaving a black hole to create
this emptiness, ******* me of my whole.

Dear darling,
I miss the times we could freely say
“I love you” to each other.
If only these words could give me back
the life I once had, with you,
just having another conversation.
I will forever yearn for a love as warm as yours,
a love that shines brighter than the sun.

I will forever yearn,
to set me free.

The only days Death has ever drawn close to me were when he left his shadow grazing over this frail body.
Sleep deprived, feverish, weak heck of a boy.
A soul so agonised over the war within, a mind so twisted and perverse. A heart, that still beats however crooked.
A body, weak; a human, depraved.

I remember those days.
Sickness pays his visits over the seasons.
Fevers, influenza, intense food poisoning, coughs so bad I end up praying "Lord, have mercy" each time.

Yet, I see others like me
Suffer disease like they've gone through hell
Got into accidents that'll take them a while or never to get back from.
See the news and see people close to me been closer to Death than I've had before.

I laid back and watched the sky as the clouds flew by
It just hit me that
one day, it'll be me.

God help me, I'm no different.
I'm barely even a saint
Just as evil as everyone else
To think that in my youth, I'm some sort of a god
an invincible immortal that could ascend the heights and become the greatest of them all.

But then I look at the sky, and wonder
"What is man, that You think of him? And the son of man, that You visit him?"
I am reduced to nothing, my passions, dreams and ambitions are all but folly-- vanity of vanities like chasing the wind.

I am losing my edge. I no longer write these poems the way I used to. I take longer to write essays. It gets more difficult to stay faithful in the faith that I have. The "amazing" parts of me are fading, bleeding, dying. It gets just as difficult socialising when you are not the extrovert you used to be.

Death has already been part of the default nature I so have, though I do not yet taste it.

Still I crave for Life, clinging on to Hope.
Still I live, for Love's good name's sake.
Still I live and wage war against Death, aspiring to be a vessel to preach the Good News of Eternal Life.  

Indeed I am unworthy, day by day I am undone.
Yet even more so, though I may die
For now, I shall live.

I wonder where true love went
before the world plunged into chaos
selling itself to counterfeits
giving away pieces of its soul
for temporal, physical pleasure.

Life is more than just "fun and games"
often times, it is sacred.
Love is deemed to be
"just a game"
and who can be the best at it.

We search for the best players,
worthy playmates for a good time
or ******* opponents.
The only value you have
is your "gear"
and how you make the most of it.

After that,
it's a job well done.
A "game over" after
"good luck; have fun"

After that,
you're sick and done.
These players don't play fair,
and in games like these,
there is no honour.

Where has true love gone to?
No, not your kind of "love"
I'm talking about the one that
cares
respects
honours
trusts
is honest, and truthful.

The love that grows when in hurt
the authentic affection that stays
even when it's harder to stay
the one that
is the most patient

What happened to
REAL love?

Where has it gone?
Why have we traded it with some

fantasy

and instead of loving with our souls
we lust after

bodies

like

dead

corpses?

Mother.
Her eyes, like sweet pearls
yet tired
her face, fair,
yet longing
her soul, beautiful
yet shaken and stirred.
Her love, keeps going
her love, presses forward
her love, is not sweet.

Her love shouts,
her love kills the spirit of joy
but at the same time resurrects
the common sense in the meaning of
the word "priority"

"Life is not fun", she says.
"It is not all fun and games.
Out there is a war
you are not willing to fight
just because you have it all."

"Life", she says, "is not all daisies and roses.
Out there you have to struggle
with all your might
through the thorns of life,
the pangs of labour"

"Life is not your own", she says
"Out there when you find love
that's when you'll struggle.
You'll realise I was right
and you'll know what it's like to be
just like me.
I have to sacrifice everything I have for you
the life I have in these veins
the time that slips from my hands
the breath that I give away
my strength
my might
my will
just to give myself
for food on the table
for a roof over your head
for a car to go from point A to B
see, everything costs my hard-earned cash that I worked for you
to sustain you.
And you live like this;
you take me for granted!
You live carelessly thinking like everything else is all cared for, done and given to you
like you don't need to do anything
everything is provided for, but you see, dear darling.

Life is harsh
Life is cruel
Life is against what you thought life to be
Because when you go out to face life's true face
life feels more like death!
Everyday you feel like you've come to the end of yourself
but you know you gotta just press forward
because you have love.

And you just gotta work a little harder", she says.

Her love is like medicine
chemically fixing my physical ailments
helping me fight my own flesh.
It is not sweet,
as she scolds and weeps
and shouts and rants and rages

She literally tells me to not cut myself
whilst threatening to stab me
if I were to ever reach for the blade!

It is like

Father.
When he reaches his fist towards my face

"I want to punch you", he says
I wonder, is his love for me based on my grades
that he should be angry because I do not please him?

I remember my cousin
when he told me
"My father once said 'I hate you' to me, to my face"
and I felt it was something like that.

The way he, no, both my parents rage at my little brother
for losing his textbook
and when questioned
accusations pour forth
death threats rain down from the doom
which is my father's sky.

It reminded me of when I was little,
traumatised,
wanting to leave home,
disappointed,
because when I was seven
my mother was right:
it felt like the whole world were against me;
including my parents.

I was a "liar"
but the irony
when poetic justice marches in victorious,
when the truth wins out
as I pressed forward.

But if Life were a hurricane
and Love, a pain
then I wouldn't wanna go through all that

But the truth is,
as always, the truth, it hurts
Life is against you
and so is Love
but Love, is special.

It is not for me but it is for you.
It isn't sweet sometimes but it is healthy.

Father has done well
Mother is still working
and both brother and sister
still naive
still ignorant
still...safe

and I, I'm getting ready to leave
searching for a love
I'll be struggling to receive
'cause, I'll be looking for the sweetness you didn't give me, Ma
but they won't hand it to me

like you have.

I admire the way two lovers kiss
It seems like they are
in heaven's bliss

When two shall love
in one accord;
and they shall be
forevermore

I admire the way
two lovers love
It's like a blessing sent
from above.

we are wanderers in a foreign land, exiles in search of home.
nomads who shift through dirt and sand.

Is this where we belong?
A desert, a wilderness.
A path made through promise of a kingdom paradise,
so close and yet so far away.

40 days and 40 years
are but a lifetime
our lives are but a wilderness
though we fast and pray
trials and temptations come our way

Be not fooled by Devil's sweet whispers
But continue past these 40 days
and though you fail in one way

There is One who fasted and prayed
overcame, and calls to you

"Behold, the Kingdom is near"

Repent.

Words stir the mind;
Songs touch the soul;
Truth pierces the heart.

I've savoured the sweetness
of your embrace
and cherished
every moment
with you, though fading.

I guess
that's why we love
temporal things
knowing how nothing
lasts forever

We will know
what it's like
when we lose something;
I guess that
determines
how valuable something is.

For once we were found
and yet sooner
lost.

And now we aren't what
we once were.

And yet I still savoured
the sweetness
of your embrace
only lasting for a time

Still it runs
afresh in my mind

that's how much you meant to me.

I have time.

But I wanna do this first.
And then I'll get back to work.

Oh wait,
look at the time!
I should probably get to it now.

Oh man,
I don't have much time
God, please
give me time...

I have no time
I need to do this now

Well,
it's all over.

Maybe next time.

The expression of art
is the art of expression;
To express oneself
may give good impression

You may not always
have success
when you do your best,
but let it all be to God
and He’ll do the rest.

Don’t be frustrated,
Let live and let go.
To learn to forgive
is to show that you know.

Strive to proceed
it may not just be for show
Learn to live life
the best way you’d go.

Hold not my sins against me,
For I am only human:
Scarred, broken, fallen.

Give me grace, and you'll have my faith;
I forgive and love you all the same.

Til next we meet, I pray instead of enmity,
It'll be in a sweet embrace.

But for all the tension I've caused--
I'm sorry for my mistakes.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
My heart pumps red
Yours, I'll pursue.

Roses are roses
and violets,
  violet

Red are the roses
and blue is
my soul

Cold,
    as it longs for you
Waiting,
    for a warmth it may never
         receive.

Colourful,
the flowers
as they bloom

But wither
they may
through the
seasons

and

    the

      days.

You did what you can;
You did what you had to.

Lay back, close your eyes.
Rest your arms, your legs,
your head.
Rest your mind,
and your weary heart.

Say a prayer,
and take heart.
What's done is done,
the rest is in God's care
as He's always been from the start.

Shortsighted
we have eyes to see
things in front of us
present tangible reality
worldly ideas and substances
superficial fear, worries, cares
what do we eat, drink, wear?
where do we go, what do we do next
where shall we see ourselves in five to ten years
so we make our schemes and plans
and we grasp for control
In trying to be king, we end up tyrants
enslaved to our own tyranny
Influenced by darkness

Shortsighted
Lord, have mercy
give us eyes to see
beyond ourselves
ever-present eternal realities
divine providence, contentment
In abundance or lack, we have everything we need
And that we are worth more
Than any temporal worry or care
Lord, give us eyes to see
our lives not as mere earthly things
but to build ourselves heavenward upon the steadfast Rock
that we may be humble, as a speck of dust in the grovel
under the sovereign kingship of a good and Holy God
that we may not waver at the tossings and turnings of this world
Lord, give us eyes to see Your light
That we may live with faith, hope, and love - that we may live with vision.

My soul grieves
for a soul;
a life lost,
to the world,
cold.

The world,
this life
full of pressure
she cannot keep.

So she frees
her soul,
for her soul
to cling to a
soul.

He tries
to stand on
the soles of
his feet

O how
he stumbles
and falls.

But how he bears,
for a life to be
shared with
a soul that
clings to his soul.

This spirit
awakened
from memory,
calls to his
bitter aid.

And as if
not even God can save him,
he is bound, chained
to the promise
he made.

O how my soul
grieves for
his soul!
And as he grieves
and weeps for
his own

It is far too late now.

Bound
between two dimensions
a chain.
'Til he fulfills
the promise made
to her.

A promise
for a dead soul.