To be honest
I don't know if I'll ever meet you
Fate's suppressing everytime
With its twist at the end
It's either the end or the beginning

She chose your name
Preluding to your birth
Waiting for the day
You come to this earth
We never stop talking about you
I'm just hoping you'll be her mirror
So your eyes will mesmerize
Every norm in disguised

I vow if you are mine
I'll be the best that I could ever be
I'll be your canopy
I'll be the light that shines through-
The glass that protects you
When life throws you knives
Know that I'll catch every single one
I'll miss one from time to time
But eventually as you'll grow older
You'll know why

I can't fathom
Seeing you for the first time
That cry will rupture
Every enmity in me
And when you open your eyes
That little spark will light
The void in my heart
I'll let you hold me as you clutched-
Your hands around my pinky

A promise sealed,
To never forget us
That our bond is eternity

Our love for you
Will be endearing
Our love for you
Will never be any less
Through the tussled waves of fate
Bounded by our neverending will
We will always keep you safe

Always remember E
As much as I love your mother
I will always love you the same.

Oblivious to arcane mishaps
That ****** the bones established by society
The echo of her tattoo sings of a great depression
Each time the memory surfaces,
A twisted grin is born
Perhaps this could be the preluding window to existential purgatory

A soul that has a body
A mind that has a face
Feet have left a trail
A path I've come to chase
The distance that I tred
Behind seems an unfair race
Yet once and twice again
I fail to keep up pace
Is this the fate I bedded?
The choice is right nor wrong?
Sinking, my feet graze the core
Preluding a swanish song
In the wake of my good sense
I feel as I've had none
Rewriting logs that should have been
Yet all is said and done
A chance. I see. I jump.
I make the same mistake
I fall. I cry. I'm crawling.
Again. No sense I make.

For some odd reason I am atuned to rain.
I might be sleeping, working,  in a windowless room,
But some how I just know when it's about to rain,
I can smell it in the air, the dampness,
The aroma of moisture building up in the clouds,
Mounting up to one big expenditure as rain,
I can sense it. The rain is tangeble, yes, but to me,
The smell just before is tangable as well.
I smell worms on the sidewalks, squirmy and slimy,
I smell the mossy trees and the wet ferns,
Just before the first drops splash down upon them.
I get a whiff of the preluding aroma and it's entrancing.
The smells bring images of rain and storms, and with it,
A sense of happiness and calmness.
Rain washes away the filth and the grime,
It allows the Earth to be reborn again.
That whiff is all it takes,
To bring a smile to my face.

"The Drawn Ones
Not the chosen ones."
~Oda

"Let's go... thru Melodic Existence
Into Hypnotizing Non-Existence..."
~Oda


You can say it
However you want so
But things, come
and go.
Passing by
All Beginningless Time,
The River of
Never-Ending Lifetimes...

Sinous Word flow
Of Ever Rhyming
Saying So's;

So you can say...

Since Beginningless Time
Yet it could Never Be...

And so goes on to Culminate
Paradoxically United...
Becoming Defined
In You Looking back at it
Once Again....

....But otherwise,
A Prison of The Mind
Lost in the
Illusory Tide...


...And with each Passing Facade
Forms Begin to take Shape...
And So The Soul
Begins to Focal-Point,
Preluding a Flowing
Of Coming and Goings...

....Thru Melodic Existence



....Into Hypnotizing Non-Existence

....So it will go;
The Push and Pull
The Ebb and Flow
The Ying and Yang

I am grey and preluding. I have wounded and wound.
When I see truth I hum closer
Just enough, to swallow it whole.
I am not an angel, only mocking.
The lips of an answer, a plotted confession.
Time has been spent on your alter.
It is beating black, with blue siding. I have looked too long
I think my bloodied knees would know.
Yet flames still flicker and each ember dies over and over.

Now I am a field. A woman standing up,
Searching my corners for what she really is.
Then waving high to the doubts, out to the wines,
and low to the moons.
I see her tears, and take to them.
She thanks me in more cries, and softer verbs.
I am her saviour. Yet she hides too.
Each night it is her morning.
In me she has blown away a young girl, and in me a wiser woman
Gazes towards her day and night, like a new moon.

A wise pope once said
a man's ambition
must indeed be small
to write his name
upon a ******* wall

But for want of superstition
and tales told tall
I'll play that ancient game
....right after my last call

Preluding my expiration
just before the fall
I'll seek the Devil's fame
and inscribe that ***** stall

By hook, by crook,
or explosive indigestion
Every nook, every sideways look
shall bear my ugly shame
For what better eulogy book
than that old ******* wall
That great temple of the read