The last firebird flied
over her as she stood
on the last crumbling
mountain.
Prickley pine trees
shivering above the dew,
the first breath of the
winter in her soul was
icing through the flowers.
She fleed the Golden-emerald
city, heart broken by the
gong of war.
Sinking her nails deep into
the ground.
Sheding tears of a dragon
from the crystal eyes
of the universe.
Falling down
her porcelain face.
A work of art.
Her lips red,to seem like
cherries in the spring.
Casting a glance at the pale moon
while the wild wind was
howling to the north.
Ruler of the skies
as the morning stars sang together,
looking different today.
In the shadows of her lace fan,
the silky blossom on the
kimono dress.
Embroided with the silver thread
of moonlight, encrusted with
the diamonds of night.
The great ocean waves can't destroy
her purple throne.
Although left all alone, she will
never surrendor.
The obediance will suffocate
from her light, rising like the sun
after the dusk once again.
Because she is... the Empress

I'll be waiting for that day

The day when I don't even care
whether someone really screamed your name
or it's just a stranger with the similar name

The day when I don't even bother to cry at night
when people remind me about us

The day when I put smile on my face
and you're not the reason behind it

The day when I can lay my head down,
without feeling sad
without sheding a tear

The day when I run
not because of the things I've been avoiding
but because of the things I've been pursueing - before I met you

The day when my world
doesn't revolve around you.

I'll be waiting

I got drunk, ecxited thinking
I would be sinking into something
I was to afraid of thinking
Making some progress moving
Through all the feelings looming
Everyday perhaps sheding
Some light
On why my chest gets tight
Instead I just keep thinking
About sneaking in and waking
This perfect handsome man
And sleeping in his arms
Were I want so desperately  to belong
Wondering if he is looking forward to uncovering
Me

But I’m paitiantly waiting to see the
Look on his face
Taste the in the air
Make a move change the pace,
take me
I’m begging, I’m shifting,lifes changing
I’m aiming to change the way things
Have always been
You are the best reason I’ve ever had to hold my breath and jump in.

Im right here waiting with you.
She calls and we're both worried sick.
Her mom seems to have lost it
And she couldn't avoid not being hit.
Our blood boils, till our brains no longer think clearly.
Until finally we both become wearily.
You love her like any best friend should,
No it goes beyond that, more like a never ending sisterhood.
I hear it your voice the way you care for her.
And I try talking and just being here,
However she hangs up on me,
And I hope shes not sheding tears.
But who could avoid it?
No crying for someone you love dear.
Even I cried for her friend.
The one who is not saying a word because she doesnt reprimand.
The way her mom is treating her must've torn a hole.
Inside her now 16 years of lyfe that she has treated as a toll.
She's a beautiful person that doesnt deserve this.
And my friend the one that hung up on me,
She knows no matter what we do all we can do is wait.
For the next day to come along so we can be there and give,
A life she deserves surrounded by love.
A life that reminds her we need her to live.

People expect desperation of shattered love to happen at 4:00am on a lonely Tuesday.
Wanting. Waiting.
Tears sheding from the soul landing into the pitted darkness of  emptiness on your pillow.
Or would that would be a romantic paradise.                                                           
And then there are people who expect desperation of shattered love to be only when your heart shakes with weakening knees.
Craving. Chasing.
Anxiously pacing, ears awake for the defining ring that your silence ridden phone will never obtain.
Or would that be a romantic paradise.

And then there is a real desperation of shattered love which is unexpected at midday's most peaceful.
Smiling. Surprising.
But then realising that the hole in your heart is bleeding their name and so suddenly you dont know what to do with your head.
Maybe that is romance in its finest paradise.

One Day, That Day, Someday....

Just in the glance of one pupil she grasps the attention of millions.

They just don't know it yet, neither does she....

Even though the mending of her heart is far from done, but I am far from abandoning her in her time of need.

Hopefully somehow or someway I would meet her face to face and see that loving smile and gorgeous face... Maybe, somehow or someday.

I couldn't bare the thought of her sheding a tear. Her love is in the right place, but somewhat her heart needs more space.

Without that space, she loathes herself everyday for the snake to carry on out of her way. For her to move on and see better days.

In retrospect, the quest to her heart is probably far from long. Although its better to have some love then not.

Images, flashes, and lights all the same; what I imagine is her all day.

Consideration is key, cause she is so meek; do not push so much or she'll push back and be stuck once again so horribly bleak...

The most shred of happiness I have is  with see, I wish I could come to you for you to see; I'm not like all those other tools.

This is for the girl
Who is told that she is beautiful but won't believe it
This is for the girl
Who sits down at the corner of a bathroom crying and cutting herself with a blade
This is for the girl
Who has had her heart torn by the spears of 20 men
This is for the girl who won't stop reading this poem without sheding a tear

God made you beautiful and you are given a special gift and purpose to be on the grounds of earth

There she sits with her thoughts drowning her.
There she sits with your judgements choking her
and stepping on her
and killing her.
You don't know how much your words are darting towards her with knives that are sharper than a needle.
It would be nice if the needle
is injecting morphine
but rather it is injecting death.
Death of an unwanted soul
that only ever dreamed to be wanted.
Death of a girl who kept on trying
and trying
to meet the standards of society.
But then even if she becomes the president of her class
or has the highest grades
it would never be enough to shield her from your never ending criticisms.
You say it as if it's a joke.
To you they are always just jokes.
But to to her those jokes are
shading away
the paths which she thought were always alight.
In the darkness under the clouds you have made from her sheding tears,
she bawls for understanding
which will never rain on her.
And while she lies on her bed
with monsters feeding
on her heart and mind,
you lie on yours sleeping soundly
with dreams of
rainbows and unicorns.
How can you ever sleep
not realizing the greatest damage
you have caused in a girl's mind?
How can you ever sleep
not knowing
that you have destroyed
her inner persona
and have shattered her dreams
right before her own innocent eyes leaving her with no choice but to
just watch.
What kind of a monster
can ever sleep with that?
What kind of a monster
can ever live with that?

Right from a toddler
To a being 18 years old,
It provided shade ;
Like an orchard along the road.

The oldest tree in the orchard
that lived its life to the fullest,
Laughing, enjoying and
lighting the dark
Dancing to the tunes of,
the hustles and bustles of life.

The seasons passed one by one,
Spring has gone,
And winter has come.
The youthful and dynamic tree
Began sheding its bright leaves and flowers,
Unrushed one by one.

The winter embraced the orchard,
Alas!the oldest tree could'nt revive.
All its leaves were sheded at once,
Leaving the tree pale without an ardour.

The tree lost suddenly all its charm,
'O Grandpa!'you have gone for lifetime
The memories of the tree ,
Will be cherished for the rest of life.
By the enduring trees in the orchard.

The tree is gone forever
On that quiet,windy,dark night;
When all the angels came down to earth,
To show the tree its way to paradise.

Just then all the trees of the orchard
Moved from their side pastel and shattered
To pay homage for one last time,
Deeply grieved by the loss for life,
All of them gathered to,
Offer a bouquet of love.

find it
in the touch of skin
that connects my fingers
to your beating heart
and to your mindful eyes

finding my lies,
sheding the disguise
that I bear
everywhere.
uprooting
the nihilism
of what was
deemed an
ugly sight.

a feel of flesh,
you are the true
sight of beauty.
I can tell this
is love in
the making,
you are something
that is
impossibly real.