"
When the slumbering sun sinks beneath moonlit rays,
Stars twinkle like glistening ocean pearls in the midnight haze.

An ice-cold lemonade breeze whispers through trees,
Tingling my skin, as humans huddle in cotton sheets.
Wolves prowl free through the slumbering wood,
While cats stretch in streets, drifting like air.
Galaxies flicker, soft as fireflies' light,
Cascading dreams through the soothing night.

Shooting stars glide, painting rainbow trails,
Rivers of dreams flow upon Twilight's reverie.
Whispers of lullabies rustle through trees,
As crickets’ soft song carries on the breeze.

The moon, a silver sun, hums from above,
Its silky rays pat the earth,
Casting soft shadows in a dance that I love.
Each breath I take releases my lingering fears,
As the world holds its breath, still, in midnight’s sphere.
"

Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Muted woods shook with each step I took.

Trees swayed to the robin's lullaby,

Each perched on brittle branches

As leaves poured down like raindrops.

The cool scent of damp earth lingered,

drifting away the night's minty gale.

Light broke through the slumbering skies,

casting warm hues on my flesh as dawn arose.

Wings flapped through the morning breeze,

filling the air with life as the trees shone bright,

each leaf glistening like emeralds kissed by the sun.

As I stood,
dazzled by the waking world,

yesterday's boulders of burden

Lightened under the warm rays of hope.
"

-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Forged by Mom's tender hands,
In the fiery lair of the kitchen where I was once a squire.
We swayed our aprons like a hero’s cape,
Bravely marched through the crucible’s draconic breath.

We unsheathed our wooden spatulas,
Raised our mighty metallic forks,
And lined our legion of spices, ready to make the dish.

Like witches,
We simmered the water with salt from the Baltic Sea,
And oil procured from the labyrinth of shelves.

As we waited for it to rattle with bubbles,
Our sweat poured like the pasta we threw,
While we smacked our iron pan into the horns of the oven.
It screeched an ear-piercing clang,
And we retaliated with our hearts beating a battle cry as we started for war.

My general ordered me to lay a grease trap.
Minutes passed; it sizzled,
The pan fired back boiling oil,
But we stood like walls—unyielding, fierce.
Brave onions leapt into the fray,
Sacrificing themselves, leaving us to grieve in tears
As the battle raged on.

The onion’s bittersweet, crispy breath inspired the garlic to follow,
Crackling in courage as it joined the heat.
Soon, bacon met the fire—
Crisping, releasing the smoky guardian from the labyrinth’s depth,
While mushrooms from the Elven forest charged in the clash.

The holy grail of Filipino-style Carbonara sauce rained on the battlefield,
Uniting the fallen, boiling *** and all,
Turning the *** into a smooth, white, creamy ocean with a steaming, smoky, crisp aroma.

We scooped our pasta water and drained the rest,
Baptized the *** with silky, snake-like pasta,
Adorned it with grainy black pepper,
And sprinkled it with golden cheese,
A finishing touch for our dish.

We cheered in victory as we prepared the feast,
Our kingdom rejoiced in tears at each slurp and each lick of our savoury dish.
As laughter echoed and stories flowed,
Mom crowned me the Carbonara knight,
A token of triumph for a job well done.
"
-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Hush, little pumpkin, don’t say a word,
Mama’s gonna sing you a song of birds.
Look at them twirl and swirl in midnight light,
While fireflies twinkle as they dance among the stars so bright,
Where dreams entwine with the world in flight.

“But, Mommy…
I’m scared...
Don’t leave me...”

“Don’t worry, my sweet pumpkin,
I’ll always be here,
In shadows and silence,
You’ve nothing to fear.”

Hush, little pumpkin, don’t say a word,
Mama's here to guide your midnight tour.
A soft, soothing chord made the moonlight sing,
As crickets hum their gentle offering.
Close your eyes, let your worries drift away,
Like galaxies cascading in ocean waves.
In the warmth of my arms, you can safely stay.

When twilight looms and the night feels long,
Listen to my rippling heartbeat; it’s your guiding song.
Feel the gentle night breeze whisper sweet dreams near,
With every breath, know that Mama is here.

Hush, little pumpkin, let the stars be your aide,
In this world of magic, there’s nothing to hide.
So rest your weary head and snuggle tight,
Mama will cuddle you till the morning light.
"

-Klausyuer: The Damed Poet

"
The light we dread on the path we tread,
Scorched by the morals we misuse.
Misread the darkness, our hearts distressed,
Mocked by the values we choose,
Led astray by the prophecies of disharmony.

Heralds of the Righteous, deaf to hideous cries,
Sombre pleas linger, unseen in the abyss.
Angels seek refuge in hell from our treachery,
Watching disdainfully the absurdity we create,
While Demons, now praying for salvation,
Witness the tragic fall of humanity.

Instruments of war masquerade as peace,
Tormenting the innocent’s fragile ease.
A nation built on unity’s roar,
Now silenced by the lies of the false majority,
As citizens, evicted by leaders once upheld,
Fall victim to the very mother they served.

The tranquil ocean of individuals,
Swept away by the puddle of atrocities.
The gavel of justice hammers the innocent,
While the illustrious clowns, adorned in lustrous lies, roam free.
As avatars of Themis fall to Eris' tempting kiss,
Our heroes, once righteous, now stab us in the back with monarchic bliss.

While the poor laugh abundantly at their chains,
The rich weep for sovereignty that wanes.
Failure is the epitome of success,
While schools terrify us to death,
Teaching the race between ending a valuable life
And the finish line of a hollow diploma.

Yet in hallowed halls, they preach dismay,
As arguments and debates suffocate the air,
In this world already choked by toxic despair.

The masks of leadership conceal deceit,
As false ideals march beneath victory's flag.
And when the hands that build also destroy,
Philosophy, once pure and guiding,
Now teaches Angels the art of demonology.
"
-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Rowing through dishevelled bones,
Drifting toward the Undying Halls,
Where the ****** poet reigns,
Composing odysseys of muted souls.

Tombs of heroes line the bleeding stone,
Each crypt houses ballads unsung.
From kings who soared to touch the sky,
To peasants whose hands tilled the earth’s damp soil,
Chiselled on each grave, a forgotten name,
A parable of life, a courage for a story.

Walking through the rubbled road,
Where monarchs and peons once carved their fate.
As angels and demons danced in delight,
Celebrating the fleeting joys of life,
Their smiles once illuminated the gloomy skies,
Now cast shadows in the creeping dread.

Creaking trees bow in the eerie breeze,
Stray ghouls and ghosts drift through the air,
Wounded and lost, still searching,
For the poet whose ink grants peace.
Among the crumbling stone, his hands unyielding,
They come to voice their regretful pleas.

In the garden of silence, they listen,
Bathed in awe as they linger,
Where the ****** poet grieves for each soul.
His quill sways, memories behold,
Etched in every word he writes,
A soul’s forgotten pain—
Every stanza, a homage to their strain.

With each stroke of ink, a life reminisced,
Unshaken, the poet will write until the final tale is told.
Alas, they rise in bliss as the poet weeps,
For a soul, at last, shall find its peace.
"
-Klausyuer

"
Should we just die?
But why?
Our show wanders far and wide— Through bustling streets
And eerie ones too.
Our act brings joy.
We smile,
we dance,
Juggling frowns,
masking tears,
Just to please the lively crowds.
Their cheers define our dreams,
Yet so many burdens
Hinder my act,
With each ticket sold for my demise, Trading laughter for sorrow.
My show, my stage—
A slaughterhouse.
For my show,
It makes me cry.

Yet beneath the laughter,
a voice lingers:
“Not doing good?
Did you forget
That we’re alright?
Mom values honesty, but not you.
You cherish lies,
For no one speaks the truth.
I don’t blame you.
Have you read the script?
Life is generous,
Joyously watching our shock,
For the cruel script.”

The flashing lights reveal my tears,
But I can’t see them.
Numbed by the cold,
with no warmth to cope,
Only silence screams for me.
I can’t accept it,
but the show must go on,
Because that’s what actors do—
Performing life and death
until night bleeds into day,
Just to please the crowd.
But I’m no fool,
so I bow.
I want to retire,
but they crave more—
More from my foolish act.
I wear my mask and smile,
So light yet so heavy.
I hate it,
But you tell me,
We’ll be fine,
For lies keep us sane.

My mind is a friend I never asked for.
Even if I’m mute,
you speak for me.
You love to act, right?
Playing life—
Left and right,
Far and wide.
I am proud of you
For enduring.
See that light?
Yes, I want it,
That act I can’t perform—
It’s hope,
But it feels too far,
too hard.

Lost in my head,
My only paradise,
Teetering between hope and doubt,
As bright lights
And trembling legs
Make my script fall,
Expecting me to embrace death.

The actor’s mask fell,
A broken man,
A wounded soul,
Waiting to be loved and heard.
Yet the crowd goes wild.
Awe and shock flash on their faces
As I cry on the ground,
Waiting for help.
They cheer and celebrate my fall,
My painful act.
Each applause stings my heart.
I’m scared, alone,
But you keep telling me to dance—
DanCe!
DAncE!
DaNCe!
They love my mask,
My act, and lies.
They want the show to go on and on.

I can’t take it anymore.
It’s too dark to see.
The only light I find in despair
Is the ending script,
A final curtain call,
And the credits roll.

Here and now,
Ready to end it all,
My only friend,
My lies, my head Screech their plea:
“Don’t leave me be.
The show must go on, right?
There’s more to act.
See life’s script—
Someone will perform your cherished truth,
That we are loved and cherished.
So keep lying and wear your mask until then,
Don’t do the final act.”

It deafens my ears,
Waking me from the brink of demise.

I put my mask down
And read my script.
I cry all night,
Alone,
But I read hope.
That’s how long the show is,
how hard life can be
When you hide it all
And skip the script Just for an act.
It’s not my first performance,
So I’ll be fine.
I’ll act once more tomorrow,
But for tonight,
I’ll finish my monodrama.
The show must go on,
after all.
"


-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
The simmering sand massaged my feet
As I wandered along the slumbering shore.
Waves swayed back and forth,
Gently caressing the grainy beach.
The lemon-scented breeze tickled my cheeks.

Gazing upon the glistening sea,
Where corals mimicked the galaxies,
As the sun walked in, spreading its warm smile
Throughout the galloping tides.

Fishes burst forth, their scales shimmering sunlight.
Seagulls squawked and soared above,
While ***** clicked their claws in the rustling sand,
In cheer for the golden dawn.
"

-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

“
The dreams we shed, the lies we dread,
Hanging on, a fragile thread.
With death ahead, hold me close—
Don’t let me fall; I need you most.

I yearn for those days
When you held me tight in loving ways.
Now a dreadful smile haunts my sight—
Why did you let me plead, alone in the night?

The lies we spun, so tenderly—
Don’t you know?
I cherished thee,
The one who chose to let me be.

Now I know, painfully,
The lies we told still bleed in me.
Please, one more time, just help me live;
I don’t want to hang on this thread,
Willingly—
You let me be,
Laughing gaily
As you toyed with me.

Can’t you hear my cries
As you tossed me aside,
Just like the toys you had?

I can’t live like this—
I’ve had enough
Of the lies you teased,
As you stripped me bare,
Enjoying me,
While I suffer in agony.

So please,
Heed my dying plea—
Just end my misery.
“
-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"

My brothers and I once leapt like bunnies through this lonely forest,
Giggling like monkeys while swinging from branch to vine.

Granma's rainbow smiles while holding her fresh apple pie,
Scented with lemon and wine,
Lured us from the trees of vibrant Eden.
While Grandpa’s stormy voice echoed, sharp and strict,
As if bruises from needle-like sticks and tics
Were not enough to teach us fear.

We laughed like children from dawn to dusk,
Until we mourned each night,
When caskets lay beneath the six-foot graves.

Dark-veiled clouds gather to mourn,
As raindrops cascade, pouring out my tears.
The warmth of laughter fades like whispers in the rain,
A reminder of what was lost, of joy that now feels vain.

A single soul drifts through the grieving rain,
While the breeze of rotting, lemon-wine-scented pie
Entombs me in ice,
As I shiver in dismay
At the sight that they died.

Now reminiscing alone, aimlessly wandering
Down the withered Eden,
Where we once strode hand in hand,
Keeping me in the secrecy of mourning lilies,
As the regretful forest drags me back,
Lost in the haze of time’s stagnation.
"
-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Should we just die?
But why?
We’ve wandered far and wide—
Through bustling streets,
And eerie ones too.
Vibrant places,
So fun,
Our happy home,
Now a crying home.
It was joyous while it lasted—
Lively school,
But it teased our death.
Our dreams aren’t here.

Did you forget
That we’re alright?
You love to lie—
It’s not what your mom taught you;
It’s you!
Life taught us,
Stole from us, gave us.
Life is rich,
Life is poor,
Life is my friend,
My only foe.
Who handed me
This rope?

You're greedy, right?
Hoarding life—
Left and right,
Far and wide.
You can do it.
See that light?
It’s too far—
Too hard.
Alone,
I’m scared,
Help me!
It’s all in your head.
You’re alive, you’re fine.
Just keep going,
You’ll get there—
I am here.


But it’s too dark,
I can’t see.
Too cold,
No warmth.
Too silent,
I can’t hear.
I’m sad,
But I want to smile.
Alone,
But I need a friend.
Dying inside,
But I want to live.
You see? You’re fine.
Because you tell a lie
All the time,
So you’ll be fine.

Who are you anyway?
The one who mocks—
Talk, stalk.
My foe,
My friend,
Lies,
Truth,
Life,
Death?
Who are you?
You’re in my head.
Get away!
See this rope?
I’ll be hanging around...
I smile,
And I wave,
My goodbye.

Wait!
You’ll leave me alone?
I’m your only friend,
Your sanity,
Depravity,
Hope,
Despair.
I am you,
My lovely child—
It's too early
For you to die.

We’ve come far and wide—
There’s more to steal from life,
The one who stole our love
And our hope.
Let’s keep lying.
You long for the truth, right?
That we’re not alone,
We are loved,
We are cherished,
We matter.
So keep running!
The light is too far,
But we hate the dark anyway—
Let’s keep lying,
Dying,
Reliving,
Living,
Dreaming,
Chasing
The light,
To steal back my hope
And hear
Our cherished truth.
"
-Klausyuer The ****** Poet

"
Trick or Treat
In an aisle so deep,
Fleeting lights flicker,
Dancing shadows creep.

Trick or treat,
In a crooked house so dim,
Whispers swirl around,
With secrets held within.

Trick or treat,
I heard a ghastly scream,
Footsteps tiptoe,
Oh so close, it seems.

'Wanna play a game?'
The darkness starts to sway,
Crimson eyes glare, unblinking,
As my heart begins to fray.

Trick or treat,
Don’t look back,
Run away,
Into the night,
Where shadows slither and play,
Echoes of laughter fade away,
As fear leads you astray,
Through twisted paths where nightmares lay.
"

-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"

Strolling through malnourished trees,
Feeding my ego on dying leaves.
A pesticide with legs, following Mida's curse,
Blind to the forest’s muffled pleas.

As lumberjacks howl, shivering the trees,
Falling like dominos—nature’s unease.
Dazzled by the coins they bear,
Bathing in gold while letting them bleed.

Sauntering across smooth, glistening marble,
Within towering manors where excess meets.
Five-star meals line my plate,
While cars parade amidst nature's weeds.

I drain my wine like I drained the streams,
Oblivious to nature’s fading dreams.
Hallucinating as the air turns scarce,
With nothing but my greed to breathe.

"

-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

“The moonlit longing rose as the sun set, Caesar’s knife of regret stabbing my back through time. I screamed like thunder at what could have been, bleeding my unfulfilled dreams, my heart devoured by choices made.”

“My heart sounds the horns of war. My soul shouts its battle cry, standing on the cliff’s edge, gazing at the stormy seas. I mounted my warhorse, ready to chase the unknown."

“A book tells tales, from the hero’s journey grander than my days to Romeo’s kiss with Juliet. Truly a Pandora’s box, reminding me of the demons I raised. Each alluring word stabs my back, a painful reminder that I have no tale to tell”

“Medals hold no honour. They hang around, breaking my neck. Certificates? Just toilet paper to wipe my sorrow away, promises of glory crumbling like dust.
Lies of a fly buzzed by on the sky I once thought was mine. They offered hopes and dreams, but I watched my life wither away beneath their weight.
The putrid stench of delusion tarnished my honour as I helplessly tried to cleanse it with my own stained hands, my clothes heavy with the dirt of regret.”

“Third time’s the charm, the luck to end my aching heart,
Yet it still bleeds, longing for the bird to nest within my hollow heart.
My hollow heart blinded me, yet it screeched its desperate plea
To the bird who never perched on the bed of roses.
Yearning to break free from the allure of her wings,
I pleaded, ‘I gave you all I had—will you spare me your song?’
With winter’s breath, it sang to me, cold and selfish,
Now I know,
Shes not meant for me.”

-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Mountains rose as roses loathed.
A delicate flower forced to crawl,
Begging for the wolves to cease control,
As I plead to the deaf Earth to head my call.
Relentlessly spewing-

StoP
StOP
STOP!
St...


Wasting my breath
Muted by my bleeding throat,
Spouting words untold,
Quenching my thirst with salted tears.

With no tears left to shed,
No chords to say,
Elated wolves found their prey,
Mocking me in my dismay.

Roses loathed as I trampled the barren soil, Fleeing away from the wolves of despair.

I can't screech,
i cAnT
I CaNT
I CANTTTTTTT!
...

..

.


Tears?
Do I even have to spare?

...

..

.


none
NOne
NONE!!!!!!

I'm tir...ed
he...lp me
ple...ase
the wolve...s
thier here...
sob
sob
...
..

.

All I see is a red sky...
That's my blood,
Howling wolves,
As vultures spun,
From dusk to dawn,
They feasted me,
A festival
For them,
Each flesh they squandered,
Savouring my bones,
Splattering my blood,
Toying with me,
Helpless and alone,
No tear,
No screams.

...

..

.

Yet, why do I crave their presence?
I see...
they howled for me.

They howled fo...m.

sniff

sniff

...

..

.

I dragged myself through the bloodied rose,
Forcing myself to stand,
With all that's left,
I tainted the soil where life is born,
Laboring day and night,
With rage on sight,
Bit by bit,
I built mountains,
My once innocent petals withered to ash,
As I burned my cherished rose.


From the wolves,
I learned how to howl,
Sharpening my fangs against the blinded Earth.
A predator forged in blood and tears.

With a heart raging within,
I climbed my mountains,
Desperate for a feast.
I feel no pain,
No Pain,
No PaIn,
NO paIN
...
..
.


P
Pa
PAi
PaIn
PAIN!!!!!
RAAAAAAGGH!!!

I roared like thunder, scoring the putrid Earth,
Condensing my wrath into unyielding storms
Letting my sorrows be spread by the rain!
With each step
The soil rumbled
To my rage!

Now I am standing tall
Above the world
With Zeus' might, I yelled
At the slumbering world
"I AM F*CKING FINE!"

-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet

"
Tossed aside like broken toys,
My heart crumbled down to dust.
Alone, ready to die—
My reaper has arrived.

Our gaze met,
Cold and hot—
Mirrored souls,
How nice, how noxious.

Your scythe pulled me in so close,
A daring move;
I cried in joy—
How lovely, how lonely.

I lean on your shoulder,
You let me fall—
A wicked grin,
How cheeky, how charming.

With every step,
I flirt with death,
In your embrace,
How fierce, how feral.

My reaper blushed,
His chilling mist whispers,
A heartbeat sighed—
How cruel, how calm.

In death's warm and dark embrace,
Your chill ignites my lost heart,
Resurrecting the pulse I thought lost—
How true, how tender.
Death gave birth to life.

"
-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet