A decrescendo.
The rainbow appears; red, orange and yellow leaves,
Green bushes and blue skies.
But, where is the purple?
Oh, I forgot, it's in your eyes.

The leaves dartling down,
Turning the soil into a lighter brown.
A crunchy carpet of decay,
A tree preparing for a winter's day.

Sweet Beauty
Sweet Kisses
Sweet Hugs
Sweet Love

Perfect Sun
Perfect Day
Perfect Moon
Perfect Night

Two Lovers, Dancing Under The Sun
Two Lovers, Dancing Under The Moon
Eternally

or wait, no
what is it?
is it greed?
is it power?
it's civilization
it takes over; it destroys
Love decays; Beauty delays
all the people do is gaze
into their everyday life

When I ascend into heaven,
I only expect one thing.
I don't expect blue skies,
Nor rose-gardens, chocolate and wines.
I don't want freedom there,
I don't mind problems, or working there.
I don't need beauty there.
As long as it abounds with you, it swarms with you, there's endless you.

This is not a poem; this is my advice.
Don't let them rush you around,
Don't let them make you think,
Take your time,
Take your time to feel, to do what YOU want,
Instead of doing what THEY want.

Poetry is the mere translation
Of thoughts and feelings
Into words.

Therefore, the biggest mistake a poet can make
Is to write words
Rather than thoughts and feelings.

Piercing through the outer skull,
Deeply into the brain, into the maiden thoughts of an unborn child,
You arrive at a magic place
Far past the feelings of this animal protected by it's mother.
Uncarved like dawn,
With its blueprints for a life it must live as other tell him to.
Past the deep rippled hills in his mind, into the forrest of feelings,
Filled with thoughts of happiness, with plenty of room for despair.
Purple trees and two green moons, creatures unknown to man.
The child kicks his mother, and the brain starts to tremble.
Trees fall down and start burning, it's starting to rain.
The child opens his eyes and starts to cry.
The mother looks at the baby and smiles.

When I looked at you at first,
I did not notice.
But now I look at you again,
And I see the beautiful sky.
The stars in your hair,
The moon in your eyes.
The light in your face,
Looks like fire in the skies.
And, your overwhelming heart,
Is the sun in your body.
It's warm and beautiful, and full of life.
My astonishing Galaxy, would you be my wife?

Silver hazy starlight, dripping from the velvet moon
As a cloud floats by, the Lunar Corona appears
It's a bright night, the eclipse is starting soon
An event that creates and dissolves people's fears

Up in the void of the night the light brown circle dances in the cloak of shadows
Then the eclipse comes, dark as a decrescendo
As I sit and watch from a furry meadow

Then the moon returns
And so does my **heartbeat

They say people love looking at the stars,
But the sky loves looking at you, too.
The sun, the clouds, even Mars,
They love to see what you do.

The sky likes us to lay in the moonlight,
For then it can stare at your eyes.
The time we went there in the dark night,
Seeing the fire in the skies, and the Emerald dyes,
in your eyes, so vivid and bright, the moon's light,
Silver-white, our hearts to ignite, we hold tight,
And we kiss, and we lay there,
And we go up in the night.

Do you feel the mystery of this swamp? I'll tell you why it's here. This is the story of a girl.

'I feel the mystery of this swamp. It is engulfing and enduring. The fog makes a dizzying haze in my mind. I can't think, I can merely feel. I feel I should walk. As I walk, I see a shine, overgrown. It is as if the vines protect the shrine, for it protects them. I feel the vast ray of sunlight come through. Yet, there's darkness. The trees don't want the light to come through. The sun sets, and stars appear. Not that I see them, I feel their presence, as I always do. I get sleepy; my power set with the sun. As I fall asleep, I feel nature overpowering me. It penetrates the armour of my mind. I feel the vines grasping me, yet I don't wake up. It feels just right, as if this is what I've always been waiting for; what I always wanted. I wake up, not knowing how long I slept. I feel older, not much. Then I see him: an Old Man, appearing. He is half plant, yet half human. His presence is overwhelming. Astonishing and beautiful, yet eerie.

One day, walking through the forest,
I see a tree. The tree appears to be a normal tree,
and it is.
But it's somehow mesmerizing.
The spell it casts puts me into a bubble; a sweet bubble, a warm happiness.
Then, I see it.
This is the most beautiful creature.
It's dripping with gold.
Its warm skin bursts with energy and calmth.
It's beautiful hair plays in the golden sun.
The sweet air it breathes in comes out sweeter, filling the air with endless joy.
The blonde leaves dancing in the wind are mellifluous and stunning.
The breathtaking charisma overshadows all despair it has been through.

P.S. The tree is you.

P.P.S I love you.

When the lucidity of love lingers,
And the fire from the heart keeps burning.
As passion slips through the fingers,
All that once was, is turning.

The embers that bursted into flames,
Fueled by the very first embrace,
Sparked by the taste of her lips,
And the curly strip of hair across her face.

But when the sparks fade away,
And the thick mist thins out,
Loves powers decay; hearts turn to clay,
And the sun gets blocked by a cloud.

Though when love is like mine for you,
After many years, it will still be true.

Do you smell the chaotic drift around?
Do you see the darkness, not yet found?
Can you hear the burning temples of unloyalty and ungratefulness towards ancestors?
Can you feel the presence of disorder?
Do you recognize the hate for people over the border?
The disruption won't come to an end, until the last person of our civilization went,
Down to non-existence of men.
We can't just dwell, we're under constant surveillance of people who were told what to do.
They're a bunch of freaking morons.
And we listen and obey.
So that makes us...
A bunch of freaking morons!
We just do as we're told, do what we're supposed to do!
We don't think for ourselves, we're not free!
We aren't nice, we're freaking mean!
We'll never be satisfied, we consume till we're unable to!
We don't share our food, because we worked for it ourselves!
They should earn their own!
We hate the people we don't know, and prejudice is our best friend!

Her pink dress, the cherry blossom,
Her pale face, the white lotus,
Her sweet smell, that of lavender,
Her smile, the beautiful sunflower.

My love is bigger than the ocean,
She trembles me as does an earthquake,
Her smile is the sun shining in my face,
A volcanic eruption over my days.

Grey turns to gold when you walk past,
The moon is silver when you stare;
The sky turns a deeper blue when you breathe out,
And the simmering ignites into a flare.