❝ ❞

     I was drowning in pain
     When you came.
     They aroused my fear
     And you wiped those tears.
     That moment of us
     Made me feel secure
     Even though we don't know each other.
     I shared my stories and you listened
     I cried all the time and you hugged me,
     virtually not literally.
     'Cause these happened in RPW.
     You became sweeter and sweeter.
     We became closer and closer.
     As the time passes by you still there
     Until the day you confessed at me,
     “ I'm starting to fall in love with you. ”
     I don't know but I feel the same
     way too.
     We had a relationship,
     Relationship that was stronger as
     friendship.
     But I always reminding myself,
     That once I fell deeper,
     There's a chance that I'll be broken.
     Once we fell deeper,
     We won't mind how this relationship
     works.
     Until the day of February 14,
     A day for a couple like us.
     Many friends asked us
     Do we really love each other?
     I said ‘ Yes ’ but you answered ‘ No ’.
     Those stories of
     “ I love you but it's RPW. ”
     You changed it and made it
     “ I love you because it's RPW. ”
     Once again, I became broken.

Fall deeper
And you'll be broken.
Not in the real world
But in role player world.

❝  ❞

To my own warmhearted and beautiful, Belle,
I apologized for detaining you here in my palace.
For I want to stop this bewitched life, alas!
Please, come with me and let us dance
With this love in relaxing harmony.

Yet, in this Little Red Riding Hood,
I'll protect you like your own Robin Hood.
Instead of bringing you these lil cookies,
I'll bring you flowers and kisses on your forehead.

“ Lay down your hair, My Rapunzel! ”
For I want to give you these alluring flowers–yellowbell.
It's me your very own Flynn,
I'm now blind yet still loving you, Darlin'.

You're my Aurora who sleeps for a thousand years.
I couldn't stop myself seeing your plump and kissable lips.
I want to stop this curse from the darkness
By giving you my first ever kiss.

❝  ❞

“ Ｈｏｗ  ａｒｅ  ｙｏｕ? ”
            s/he asked.

So, I answered

“ I'm

       B R  O  K E  N
       E
       T
       R
       A N X I O U S
       Y
       E
       D

                L
                O

                N
                E
                L
                Y

       N           E   V
       E      R              G  
       O  O                     D
       E                           N
       O                           U
       G                           H

                F     R     U
          S                        T
        R                            A
       T                              E
       D     F      R      A     G
       I
        L
         E
            D   Y    I    N    G


Sorry for not telling the truth
I just don't want you to worry.
I would rather choose to keep it
Deep inside me.

His eyes weren't closed, but it felt like he has entombed
As he laid his fingers from the spine of the tome;
He perused the letters imprinted by the blood
Dripping from the wrist of a lonesome lad.

From the lightless corner, he hearkened the song of tumult
Played by the demons where the lyrics have written with insult.
The downfall of the knight as they have yearned for it to behold
Brought the life of the feral wolf who is at night, he growled.

Their fangs lacerated his sanity through their bite
While drooling for some piece of his fright.
Each day seemed to be a night he has to wait to end;
A cage he has to abscond far from the fiend.

Aiding through masks will not heal the induced sore
For his pieces turned to dust—can not fix what they tore.
In the end, the whining wolf get drowned from derision
And get killed from the unseen battle—depression.

❝ ❞

     A Queen who found her King.
     A King who loved his Queen.
     A Princess who admired her Prince.
     Yet, I'm the Prince who fell in love
     with my servant.

    A servant who truly loves me.
    A servant who accepts what I am.
    A servant who treats me like a rose.
    A servant that I loved the most.

    But this different fairytale
    Didn't stay that long.
    A story that has never been free from all.
    A story with an unhappy ending.

i just hope that
    someday, summer
    won't be felt like winter
    and dawn won't be seen
    as an ending.

Kneel and repent for you have sinned.  
In this town, you fail to see those unseen;
Trudge the cliff and hold the lethal knife—
Stab thyself to free from one's life.

Filthy lucre cannot mask through larceny.
Alack! No one can abscond for they inscribe rapacity.
In the arms of perils, you may nestle, but you can't free from the angels.
They bestow solace thru the guise and besiege for some lies.

Behold these men who **** not to die.
Bespeak Words to gratify death, to beautify.
Deceive fellows for greed makes them alive.
Perish, neither to escape nor to hide but to divulge the truth; revive.

The primordial savagery should vanquish
But left unspoken, untouched, and has not perished.
Desperately creeping but found unequal equality—
For their obscure prowess remains as anxiety.

Those crocodiles trample people's right
To brew fright, but they will never deplore.
Countrymen do not benefit from what they worked hard for,
Greedy government grow and live as our so-called knights.

,

     Kneel down and repent
     for you have sinned    
     In this town you fail to
     see those unseens;
     Trudge the steep cliff
     and hold the lethal knife.
     Stabbed thyself
     to free from one's life.

                  Filthy lucer won't be sealed,
                  neither from one's money.
                  Alack! No au revior shall be said,
                  for they inscribe rapacity.
                  Nestle in the arms of perils—
                  won't be freed from the angels.
                  Bestowed solace thru the guise
                  and besiege for some lies.

     Behold these men
     who **** just not to die—
     Bespeak Words to gratify
     death—to beatify.
     Deceive, for greed
     makes them alive.
     Perish, not to escape,
     neither hide—
     divulge truth; revive.

He who sees darkness
      made him broken into pieces.

He who sees light
      made his perfect broken night.

He who sees lovers
      made us dispersed.

He who sees lack of kindness
      made him believe in the darkness.

He who sees falsity
      no more chances for sovereignty.

❝ ❞

             My color isn't light as pink
             It is as black as ink.
             Like a place so dark
             Where the dog always barks
             Barks as their judgments
             That made me turn into fragments.

Judgments can make a person fragile.

❝ ❞

    In this box shaped power-driven wheel,
    Slowly going upright down.
    You can clearly see the hill
    And other people having fun below.

    In this box shaped power-driven wheel,
    I'm with you when  I was in pain.
    You hugged me and I felt well,
    I hugged you back and gave you smile.

    In this box shaped power-driven wheel,
    From the strong and happy friendship
    You and I had a special relationship.
    I also gave you my first kiss here.

    In this box shaped power-driven wheel,
    You asked me to be your lifetime
    partner.
    Partner not just couple out there.
    And so I gave the ‘ Yes ’ that you
    wished.

    Yet, in this box shaped power-driven
    wheel,
    You confessed before our wedding day.
    That you, my love, had an affair.
     And worst, that person is my sister.

     In this box shaped power-driven wheel,
     I see the altar where
     You and my sister
     Celebrating your wedding.

May you have a happy
And peaceful family.

❝ ❞

   I was eighteen and he's twenty
    When we both found ourselves happy
    Together with no boundaries
    Like all the things were free.

    I was nineteen and he debuted.
    He had a party and he's so happy.
    We shared laughs
    And that gave me guts.

    I was twenty and he courted me
    For the reason that he loves me
    Of what I am and who I am.
    We both wanted to hold each other's arms.

    I was twenty two
    And he stopped courting me
    'Cause I already gave him
    The ‘ Yes ’ that he deserves.

    A years passed
    We're still happy.
    He brought me child
    And treated him as ours.

    I was twenty four
    And he proved me more.
    With our own family
    Living peacefully.

    I was twenty five
    And a lady came
    Shouting “ Where's my child? ”
    That made my child cried.

    “ You can't be a mother, b*tch! ”
    She shouted and made me realized
    “ Am I worth to be your mother, my child? ”
    Or it's meant for me to live with these lies.
    
    The truth that a gay like I
    Can't give a lil life
    Like a child I raised with all my might.
    Is this what a gay's life?

    Now, I'm thirty
    Living alone and feel pity.
    The guy I love left me
    With those words and it kills me.

    The child we raised
    Is the the result of what he did.
    The woman who came before
    And the man I love the most
    Is the parents of the child I love.



No one can hide the truth.
Yet truth *****.
Not all but most.

In 333 series of an onslaught,
Between to fight and to be
caught.
To live or to die,
To be free or to lie.

Many people were being
insulted
By this so-called contradictory.
They smote us,
But no one succored.

Reason? To purloin this
masterpiece,
Not to make this world
at peace.
Carnage, oppression, and
slavery–
These are just one of their
hobbies.

But now, we've successfully
defeated the opponent–
Came from the other continent.
We, the Nouvelle Ancestry
Will fight against this
inhumanity.

for the first time,
i didn't write a prose about you;
on how i savoured
your genuine “I love you”
with a tender kiss on my cheeks.
i neither bled myriads of poetry
compiled with the string of our promises
embedded in each page,
nor composed songs
through the daily and nightly stars
we have beheld by the ocean.

it felt different yet peaceful.
i was not bothered if you would or not love it—
there were no monsters whispering me.
there has no river formed within my soul,
and only the music of my own serene falls
told me to sleep and don't bother—
for deep inside my heart knew
that even if i made you an ocean of music boxes,
wrote you mountains of my written fondness,
and produced you millions of songs,
you wouldn't remember
today's the day you promised me
an eternal devotion—a life with no sorrow.

'

              I        wonder
              how would it
              taste        like
              if      I     pour
              your    words
              on my cofee
              because I've
              been tasting
              the bitter sugar
              you've   coated
              in    my   palate
              when          you
              embraced  me.

❝  ❞

        He's gay and I'm Bi.
        I said ‘ Hello ’ , he said ‘ Hi ’.
        I love him but I keep it,
        I admire him and  it's secret.

        Secretly admiring him.
        Secretly looking at him.
        Secretly stalking him.
        Secretly loving him.

        We became friends
        But sad it definitely end.
        When the time I confessed
        The true feelings of mine.
        I laughed and sighed.
        Haha! I'll be fine.

        I still talk to you
        And you do the same.
        I still love you
        But it's sad you can't do the same.

        I want you to always remember
        My love for you will stay forever.
        I love you, my everything-
        The best and gorgeous art I've ever seen.

        Again, he's gay and I'm Bi.
        I said ‘ Hi ’ but now? He can't reply.

I'm always so proud that I love someone like you.
You can't love me back and so I'll wait.

Wear a covering made of gauze
          that fits over the nose and mouth;
          Protecting not to catch dust and
          particles for the work not to pause—
          Perhaps be thrown out, be discri-
          minated, and received some shout.
          Toil from saving, eyes go swollen
          sick from the unseen shark in the dark.
          Those shadey spots could be seen
          thick and thin that left lots of mark.
          Tears shall fall, hope shall not die.
          Weary sighs, never heard a lie.
          
          It holds them chain—sicks are
          cheered for their pleas are heard.
          It holds them chain—lives are saved,
          not themselves but those who're brave.
          Children are crying, waiting for them
          coming.
          Hands are trembling, but there are
          musts of working.
          Things have never been solid neither
          have been veered;
          But the workers must be protected
          and be revered.
          True heroes—indeed!

'
              I once lost my home,
              Then I lost another one;
              This time, it was you.

A Queen who found her King.
     A King who loved his Queen.
     A Princess who admired her Prince.
     Yet, I'm the Prince who fell in love
     with my servant.

    A servant who truly loves me.
    A servant who accepts on what I am.
    A servant who treats me like a rose.
    A servant that I loved the most.

    But this different fairytale
    Didn't stay that longer.
    Story that has never been free from all.
    A story with an unhappy ending.

❝ ❞

     I know you loved me
     In the way you know.
     You freaking loved me
     In the way you didn't show.

     I know you're hugging me
     In the way you literally,
     Emotionally and physically
     Hurting me.

     I know you're giving advices
     In the way you shout
     Those wonderful killer words
     That made me cry in joy.

     I know you made me
     Feel these lovable treatments
     In the way you know
     Its a right thing to do.

     But you know what, Mom?
     I still thank you for all of these.
     I still respect you and treat you as
     the greatest mom.
     I still love you no matter what.

     Because I also know that
     You're just doing these
     Because you love me
     And you don't want me to leave.

'
            darling, you are not part of similes,
            for you are incomparable.
            you are the abstract art itself—
            fragmented yet abysmally beautiful.

clouded night #2


    i no longer
    feel the warmth
    you once kissed
    on my shoulder.

                                each morning
                                seems to be colder;
                                each eventide
                                i get weaker.

     you no longer
     excite these butterflies
     in my beings;
     they now found their demise.

                      you, who were once fond
                      of my paradise-like garden,
                      drowned me of your pouring rain
                      and left me in disdain.

      i, who think of ever been loved
      by your enticing eyes,
      was never been appreciated—
      for i was just this wildflower
      who cannot bloom flagrance.

I once met a mademoiselle
weeping cherries and petals on her cheeks.
She beseeches the quiescence
to consign her tears
for the god of the abyss
to kindle flames throughout the surface
of a foolish queen.
She offers her blood to form lines
created from an account
of a region of spacetime
that even light cannot escape from it.
Darling, enough provoking a poetess
to put you in silence
through commanding her self-created gorgons
and make you your statue of travesty
and forged artistry.

These are enough to shatter one's domain,
if and only if that poet will claim
the revelation of a monster
beneath the original creator
of a ******* world
through the inks exuded by the great gutsy spider.
That is how a poet bespeaks
the reused and reclaimed epistles
of the mythical raging Dragonite goddess.

I'm too tired not to give up.
I even told myself what should I have:
Space—so that I can breathe,
And peace, for I haven't tasted it.

They told me to sleep,
But I always found myself to weep.
It's terrifying yet so serene;
I was swayed by my friends, demon.

It's not the time at 3 AM
When they happen to appear;
I've been always with them
To ease where I suffer.

Even demons can be friends, too.
They saved me from crying over you.
They were there to embrace me
And put me in a poetic agony.

She jumps through the whisper
of the wind
To harvest their sweet blood, to
ammend
The loathsome world, and to ascend
In the world with no sheen—a fiend.

Cursed by the painters, and earthlings
For debacles are what she brings.
She lifts herself through the
mutterings
Even when she's shattered in her
beings.

She, who sheens no light at fight,
Has been mistaken as benighted.
She carries not the death of a dead;
She's an art who's known the shadow
of a knight.

❝  ❞

    You have no love from above.
    What will you tell next?
    You have no happiness in life.
    What will you tell next?

    You must be crying now.
    You must be lonely now.
    But how can you still manage
    to smile
    Having those beautiful lies?

    Those tears that have been shed.
     Say these things with your heart.
     And feel the presence of the truth that
     These aren't just a beautiful lies.


“ Once, lies became beautiful. ”
  – Primo

❝ ❞

      Forbidden to speak.
      Playing hide and seek.
      Who knows the reality,
      When they embrace falsity?
      Keep holding these fantasies
      If you question veracities.

People judge,
Truths were lodge
On their soul
Until the realization.

'
        there's someone
        who grabbed my *****
        in the middle of the night.

        i was all covered by my sheet
        with just me and a friend,
        and i know he wouldn't.

        i checked him out
        and he was dead sleep
        with snores occupying the room.

        a moment passed by,
        someone grabbed my *****,
        and felt the coldness of its hand.

        i trembled and slip out a moan,
        a minute voice came out—
        i was getting wet and loud.

        it stroked my shaft up and down,
        i was still covered
        and cannot move.

        pleasure flowed in my veins,
        a picture of my ex
        depicted in my brain.

        she, who died
        in the middle of the night,
        still the *** partner i always have.

        every night,
        i always ***
        in her cold hand.

,

          darling, grab my wrist,
          put your hand on my waist,
          never let the time to waste;
          let's dance while i embrace
          your cold body on the darkness.

Never marry a composer, for he will hurt you through the dulcet words he would craft. He would compose those fragmented notes into such a bittersweet melody. Tranquility will lose its serenity; beauty will kiss imprudence and tune will be gone eerie.

He would promise a song written by his yearning soul, but you will just hear how he mourns and how he longs to break you. He would promise until you would get used of his frail voice—hurtful as it would shatter your heart when you hear it slips in his lips.

Do not marry a singer. He will sing his surreal tale; how he was left in pain and how he was broken by his past. He will grant you a song that seems to linger in your mind, depicting a cassette player and some broken vinyls and plays how rough its sound is.

He will sing you a luscious melody but as time passes—you will find it meant for another soul; for you are just a passenger who listens in his pain and a soulmate who isn't meant to be.