Like a golden sun as riches,
They are gold and silver,
Without shining bright as diamond,
These goldness of the sun is the key,
For brightness of gold and silver.

Feeling the sun is so hot and gold,
Like a star in the blue sky,
Without so many stars,
As if it is the pure star in universe.

How could the sun be so brightful?
When there is more light outside,
With us to see more sunlight in
Our eyes.

Angel Grove shines summery with its bays,
In the winds each and every palm tree sways.

It is time to chill out after winter,
With moves and ways under the brightful rays.

At summery days shining in bright beams,
To the Youth Center there are many ways.

A long time ago or just previously,
The trends and fashions breeze throughout this place.

From colorful shows to glittering fights,
The river of Gihon saw here the plays.

At times of twilight, between day and night,
Is this city like a divided maze?

My Sweetheart that runs on two
Even if She does not bloom
The sweet scent of Her comes too
Even at the peek of doom

My Sweetheart She loves us so
She dies and lives for us to grow
The endless nights of pain She sow
The brightful morning for us to go

The sweet song of Her hummingbirds
Live by their cages as She just yearns
Can they not stop the selfish turns
As they **** Her in selfless curves

She loves us dear but she may die
As apathy becomes obliged
Where the chosen just humbly lie
As false heroes pillage Her inside

We all are sinners
We all make mistake
We all love each other
For the love of music.
Remember
That life is one
And only us
Will set the path
For a full brightful youth
Set the road
For the new beginning.

Ponder me, I'm the best poetic expression
In yonder world, my father had wrote.
Awful me, I'm the depth of calmness
In buoyant sky, the eye of storm shows.
Fearful me, I'm the lord of darkness
In dreadful night, residing beneath the light.
Cheerful me, I'm the light of lightness
In playful way, children adore to hug.
Joyful me, I'm the pleasure of a new born
In delightful might, when motherly angel nears.
Wishful me, I'm the wise of the wisest
In brightful day, like sun showering his grace.
Colourful me, I'm the blush of the rose
In beautiful hands, picked and worn in romance.
Tearful me, I'm the cry of the heaven
In cloudy day, drowning the earth of hope.
Blissful me, I'm the minute of the minutest
My faithful Lord, allowed to wander in this world.
Humble me, falling into the pit of ignorance
Boasting myself, for impressions in distant hearts.

To whom we are writing
To the deafs we are typing
To whom we are hoping
To the deaths we are wishing
They can hear
They can talk
Better yet not talk
Not writing
Only wishing
Brightful is darkness
Lightful
Look
Hear
Feel
whisper
Poetry is here.