The darkness holds a rose that is given to humanity

This very rose is the key to our sanity

Maybe this wasn't what I planned

Wasn't what I had in mind

You write your own future

You can’t rewrite your past

I keep all your photographs in a box

Shut up and sealed with tape

Your letters line the walls of my room

I can’t escape your words

Haunting, like the memory of your smile

The first time we met

Maybe this wasn't what I planned

Can’t play with fire, toy with fate

Swap signs, I turned left at the crossroads

Should have taken a right…

Lost and wandering cliched paths

And so my heart stopped beating

When our eyes stopped colliding

You may not be exquisitely handsome

But you were to me

Stare,

Stare at me forever

I’d love to see you when you’re old

Never tire of that smile

Maybe this wasn't what I planned

The realization hits so hard sometimes

All I can do is put my head in my knees

Suffocate in the dark

Until your thoughts pull me out again

Sometimes in the mornings I pretend

I’ll see you today

You’d pick me up again

Twirling round, round and round

Constant spinning helps settle my head

Since you let go of my hand…

This wasn't what I planned

To be able to remember exactly how it felt

To have your lips whisper my name

I can still feel your skin on mine

The waters so hot to burn the pain away

Hell, I STILL love you

parting is such sweet sorrow.....

[Romeo and Juliet]

A complete absence of hope has begun to fill these clogged arteries, and birds that sang in my arrivals and achievements have gone on to hang themselves with these energy-lacking power lines that string themselves repeatedly between my ears. If only I could just reach inside and revive these broken bones and bruised aspirations, all would be right again. It's only fair that we should be able to fix ourselves. Or if some futuristic factory existed where new thoughts, ideas, hopes and dreams were simply planted upon us one by one on some massive assembly line and as we exited we had this new way of looking at this grand old world of ours, and maybe if we're lucky, we can stop draining the world of everything she possesses and just drain ourselves again and again

Darkened skies of gray,
the clouds on your face,
and your thoughts in disarray.

There are no umbrellas here,
underneath your salted sky.
Drowning peacefully, in the tears you cry.

Wishing for the stream to overflow,
so I'll build a raft, but I won't know where to go.

In the amplified swirl of life,
lines and dots, forget-me-nots.

Time drifts faster than the wind.
Let's end this, before it begins.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great and would suffice. 

[Robert Frost – Fire and Ice]

"This place called Hell,

It is where Demons dwell.

And comfort me Fire,

For it is my last Desire."

[Turn and Smile- Prologue]

 

I started having these dreams.. dreams that I would trade the world for. I woke up...content...euphoric...I honestly cant describe the feeling I had when I awoke from my peaceful slumber. I dreamt these dreams that were so close to reality I literally mistook them for such.

But recently, my dreams have become nightmares that have me on the brink of terror, always in constant fear, and of what? I don't know. Every night for the past few days I have awoken from these dreams in a cold, wet, clammy sweat. I don't speak to anyone about these dreams...because even the idea of sharing such vividly horrible dreams makes my heart skip a beat and flutter. Each time I lay my head upon my pillow and turn off the lights, it begins.

As I circle the rim of deception
Who shall ensue their venom
When shall my lusty rainfall cease?

All is forgotten

As ‘Sick’ lingers over my door
Manifesting my being
To help me move on
To far-off sensibility

I’m hit hard and I crumble
Tidbits of my soul drop with a “ting”

As they fall to the forsaken floor
As they ensue the damned.

In cryptic sarcasm
You try and pull me back
A taunting of many cruelties

Let Go

I seep through, slowly receding
Until nothing lingers
And you glare impatiently
When it takes a few moments

For me to fade…

What is love
Is it a tempest that rages in the heart
A peaceful stream that glides, quietly in the soul
What is love if nothing but a feeling
An allusion that the mind creates to hide true feelings
Is love nothing but a thought, the hope of something different
Love is made up in a mind of hopeful wishing

Crawling in my forlorn appearance
I hide my soul behind these tattered wings
Tattered and broken as they are
Plucked of light, stained in tears and blood.

In quiet despair upon the cold earth
Smeared in dirt I crouch upon my weary knees
And clutched timidly between my fingers
Rests one last jewel of Hope.

A single unblemished plume plucked
From the silver light of dawn
A feathered ray of light from beyond
To illuminate the void that has me bound.

This precious barb of silk
Once lost as I was and forgotten
Blazes now to immerse me in radiant bliss
To wash away the pain, draw me from the abyss.

So now I fade away…
My tender flesh removed
My shattered wings released
My inner light unsheathed… escapes.

Broken and wasted away. The shadows burnt into its surface, the life burnt off. Where once stood a symbol of our vitality and wealth, now there lies the penalty of living a life too grand. Where once there was love and energy, now there are endless fields of ashes.

With the charcoal we can write and remember, but the feeling is forever crushed. Joy has never been known, and like a rose that has never seen the sun we crumble. Did this place once hold us? When the city crumbles, so do the bounds that hold us to our old lives. Those shadowy rose thorns break off and become thorns in our hearts.

The bones are hostile reminders or our past. The symbols of an old life. The symbols of our defeat. Miserable bones that know no rest; their time is over but their purpose is not. They build a throne we can share. King and Queen of this desolate future; keepers of our stained history.

The ashes will grow as we spread our own across the ruin. Scattered and lonely cries of desperation will echo in the violent wind and carry our message across an unforgiving ocean as our own ocean of drifting shards will carry us apart.

With only ashes for our home and a harsh sun eternally judging us few survivors, we push on. The city lights will never shine again, but their artificial life still beats in our veins like a horrible memory. The wraiths that form this new life know only the ashes and bloodstained clouds that recoil at the sight of our misery monument. And now we will fight for it and die for it, like we always have.

Swallow your fear and light the matches.

("As we walk through the ashes I whisper your name.")

your voice is just a whisper
you call upon your blank thoughts as you try
to fit in where you missed her
you missed the chance to stop living a lie

Sorrow sang out to my broken being
A steady hand to pull my strings
Brought me sight without even seeing
I found strength within my tattered wings
I lifted myself up from the dust
Put on my cloak of sadness
Hid my face from the ones I trust
As I was consumed by my madness
The shadow of hope vanished from sight
As I raced towards the apparition
New thoughts emerged dark as night
Only worsening my condition
"You're disconnected, this I know"
A voice rang out in the air
"Help yourself, just let him go"
"Despair will get you nowhere"
The voice was right, I had to admit
Still his vision remained within
The only one I could not forget
I knew the answer but just couldn't win
Quickly I ran from the voice I knew
I felt nothing but the numb
Where am I running off to?
What have I begun?

if you listen
listen close
beat by beat
....
you can hear when the heart stops

So many people like me put so much trust in all your lies
So concerned with what you think to just say what we feel inside
So many people like me walk on eggshells all day long
All I know is that all I want is to feel like I’m not stepped on
There are so many things you say that make me feel you've crossed the line
What goes up will surely fall and I’m counting down the time
Cause I’ve had so many standoffs with you it’s about as much as I can stand
And I'm waiting until the upper hand is mine

[Linkin Park - Hit The Floor]

I'm pouring crimson regret
Crying acid tears
My mind isn't functioning
Depressed for almost 15 years
Crying out for just a little help
Getting nothing in return
So sick of this life and the people in it
I'd like to watch them burn
Lost my friends a while ago
Due to my personalities
I went crazy and lost my mind
I was the cause of those causalities
Didn't mean to snap
Didn't mean to kill
But when I went insane
I lost my power of will
I can't control my actions
I can't control this hex
I hope that you can run real fast
Cause baby you are NEXT!

I'm dreaming a dream from long ago.
The same days over and over again.
Within this endless dream, I wished for a morning that wouldn't come.
It's red...
and white..
and cold...
and warm...
and sad...
and happy...
and...
and the same days are repeated.
I knew from a long time ago, from years ago.
Wandering in this dream...
Wishing for a dawn that wouldn't come...
I'm always in the same spot.
A ruckus with no voices, and a faceless person walks before me.
No one cares about just one little child.
I'm waiting for a person.
A person I know who won't come.
Someone I know I won't meet again.
For years and years
Within this repeating dream, I was always waiting
for a dawn that won't come...

silence
there's nothing more to hear
pencil scribbling on paper
the music's disappeared

a scream that can't be heard
though i may seem fine
you hear the shrieks of others
but the silent scream was mine

darkness
there's nothing more to see
suffering in that corner
the struggling one was me

blinded by thier hatred
not a single glance was kind
you turned away unknowing
the silent scream was mine

numbness
there's nothing more to feel
bound only by your ignorance
my wounds are still unhealed

silently i scream it seems...
or you no compassion left
maybe i was damned to silence...
or maybe you were deaf

She can't hide no matter how hard she tries
Her secret disguise behind her lies
And at night she cries away her pride
With eyes shut tight staring at her inside
All her friends know why she can't sleep at night
All her family asking if she's all right
All she wants to do is get rid of this hell
Well all she's gotta do is stop kidding herself

[Linkin Park - Carousel]

I've heard some rumors in my time --- that love can conquer all
It can move mountains --- it can see you through until the end
Lift you up to dance on sun-colored clouds, make a lover out of a good friend.
I've heard love is something magical; happens without cause
Leaves you sometimes feeling hopeless and just a bit lost.

I find myself when I look at you --- I see who I want to be
And as you walk away, I find myself with a lock but not the key.
I reach out my hand to you, but it's thin air I grasp
Just one chance. One chance is all I ask.

Take a leap. Take a dare. And if failure follows after--
Trust that I will still be there. It's a deadly question:
I know that life ain't always fair. But I hope just this once
It won't turn out with me being on my own.

It's a bit peculiar; perhaps a bit out of the norm
But I find magic behind words --- they lift me up and keep me warm.
I'd do anything to change the world --- but I am powerless against the tide
Yet these feelings in my heart I can no longer hide (forgive me)

I'm a fool for believing in miracles and happily ever afters, I know
But it kills me inside to just have to let you go.
Not once did my heart stop loving you --- a special place you've always held
And I knew you were something special since the day I met you.

I would give it all up just to make you smile --
To be the arms that wrap around you that make you stay awhile longer.
I would give it all up just to make you laugh --
To hear it in your voice that true love lasts.

I've heard rumors --- some I held to be true
Love can conquer everything...
So just answer me this...
Why can't I get through to you?

[Inspired by a very dear friend]

to love is to destroy.
and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.

Stand up and take your place among the messed up and insecure
He says hes trying
(Its so unlikely)
And she knows hes lying
We all fall (were we ever standing?)
We all gave up on lives all too demanding
So I'll count the stars and you count my faults
Neither will finish (contridicting lives come to a halt)
And you can tell me you love me; I'll tell you you're wrong
I'll tell you you hate me...And you'll go along
Breaking down is harder than it seems
A new trend of a heart breaking and shattering dreams
Didn't they tell you, didnt you know?
Didnt you realize when the pain didnt go
(Away):
Breathing doesn't mean youre alive
Your heart can be beating as you start the dive
He says hes trying
(Its so unlikely)
And she knows hes lying
Can you look me in the eye and tell me youre fine?
Tell me its nothing, not just another line?
Maybe one day someone will find beauty in my scars
And see them as more than just prison bars
He says hes trying
(Its so unlikely)
So I'll be your virus, and you be my pill
Together forever, eachother we'll kill....

Tennessee Williams once wrote: We all live in a house of fire. No fire department to call. No way out. Just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns down the house...with us trapped, locked in it.

[Tennessee Williams]

(The powers proven to end the madness
Upon I take it to end the savage
The rays of light a truth of meaning
To my father the blood is pleading)

(A justice rage for all to feel
With innocent cries and hatred squeals
The gore of evil seems to satisfy
When slain and maimed and pacified)

(My chosen torture makes me stronger
In a life that craves the hunger
A Freedom and a quest for life
Until the end the judgment night)

(Watch the footsteps but never follow
If you want to live tomorrow
Steal a soul for a second chance
But you will never become a man)

[Devil May Cry 3]

somehow I find beauty in our failings,
somehow I find meaning in our lies,
somehow I'm made perfect in this fracture,
your back is begging sweetly for my knives!

She whispers to me,
a mystical voice filled with never-ending pain and misery.
Hauntingly beautiful in her endless torment,
her destructive agony.
Her disillusioned eyes burn through me, searing my soul,
as she begs me to just let her go.

Degraded and defiled, persecuted and thrown out into exile.
She became a soulless being residing in a rotting corpse.
No longer human, not quite a ghost,
but rather a combination of the two filled with remorse.

I look upon her grief stricken face in my dreams,
my heart skipping beats as it picks up the pace.
Growing cold and numb staring in disbelief,
I realize the disgusting truth in shameful disgrace.

I am her,
she is me,
a mind-numbing fact I can’t escape,
a reality that sickens me.

I am the being touched by rot and decay.
I am the one on which the hand of archaic evil chose to lay.
No longer pure, forever soiled,
my soul is damned my body permanently spoiled.

A tainted creature residing in a human shell.
Pathetic twisted being damned long ago to remain in hell.
Neither loved or hated, always alone, forever jaded.

I wrap myself in enslaving solitude.
Locking myself in, effectively shutting everyone out.
I refuse to spread the darkness in me,
I refuse to contaminate anyone with its evil glee.

THIS IS ME, FOR I AM SHE!

Why can't we pause the moment and grasp it and own it?

Death trembles beneath my feet, it shudders in my wake.

Pulsing with my every heartbeat, every breath I take.

Fields of stone and broken glass, and chrystallized human souls.

Dreams of a forgotten path, and the silent bell that tolls.

Bones embedded in the statues, were long ago a living man.

And dawn with its radiant hues, has nothing for this shadowed land.

Statues lined, they marked the graves, where great heroes fell.

Souls drifting in a daze, under death's witching spell.

I walk the unholy lands, where angels fear to tread.

And hand in skeletal hand, I wander with the dead.

Ask anyone, "How come you here, poor heart?"-
And he will slot a quarter through his face.
You'll hear an instant click, a tear will start
Imprinted with an abstract of his case.

For generations the answer has always been no. No one remembers and nobody cares to ask. Asking a question is deemed criminal and now slowly the silence grows...

In my head everything was perfect, and every note resounds in harmony. All I seem to offer up are discords and every note I sing sounds out of key. And every time I play with passion, I start breaking strings...and my voice cracks when I sing from my heart...guess that's the price I've got to pay to know that I'm alive. This melody is tearing me apart because we're all in the same machine, each one with his own broken dreams.

Here, all hopes and dreams are scavenged from the floor and fed into machines that feed on vacant eyes. All of my dreams always find me far beyond these fake fluorescent skies. I know there must be something more...if I could only find the door, then I could free myself and see the world outside. Daylight breaks on you and burns away the grey that suffocates your soul. For now I hold a key, and though I may be lost I know that I will find my way. I search endlessly but every time I've thought that I was near...the smoke and mirrors lead me astray. Time it seems will suffer at our hands. I look for exits in the haze, the dense electric twilight maze.

Daylight, they tell me that it's just a myth; they try to betray me with a kiss. They tell me that it can't exist but they might never know just what they missed as daylight pours fire into my eyes, pours grace into my pain stricken life...breaks in and lights the way, because I can't live without the day.

So you say that you're a dreamer? Well I'm a dreamer too. But I won't sing your lullaby, however well intentioned, it's neither good nor true...the pallid dream is just a lie.

Sometimes a belief held true, is proved to be an outright lie. But it seems we always knew, in some unspoken lullaby...I'll see you at the rendezvous, we'll raise our voices to the sky, and though some say there'll be no coup, we'll never know unless we try.

Your apathy of thought has lead you to believe, that things are what they're not, my friend you've been deceived. The easiest route rarely leads to the truth. I see the self approval glaze your eyes, you know you're right no need to worry why.

When every word makes perfect sense, in every single line you read...but every single line seems to conflict undermining your creed. And the perspectives that I see is a Picasso reality. I'm seeing truth through sheets of opaque glass. Where does reason stop? Since when did following your heart become a sin?

And now I lie here shaking on this bed, under the weight of my regrets. I want to take the bullet the one aimed straight for your heart. I want to meet the wolves halfway and let them tear me apart. And the world would stop and listen, these scars could speak in volumes...but who has ears to hear? That's not the way they do it here.

I've never been this cold, the fire's gravity compels. Like planets cling to the sun, I feel my orbit start to fail. Like moths to the flame I come, too close, and all my oaths are burned. As stars begin to run, all my accusers take their turn. And calling the curses down, from my lips lies like poison begin to spill. And then comes that awful sound, the sound of prophesy fulfilled...and then I met your eyes, and I remember everything and something in me dies...the night I betrayed my own.

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me.

[Pastor Martin Niemöller]

He touches my soul with his words...
Dares me to love him...
And then leaves me in my endless grieve...

He tells me tales of wonder...
And takes me to places...
Letting my imagination go far away...

He holds my hand...
And seems so true...
And all of a sudden he disappears...

And I...

I sink in my grieve...

i wish i knew what you had meant to me, before you went and left me wandering...

My deep, dark secrets are mine to keep.
As I creep away slowly, while the whole world sleeps.
And before you know it, I'm standing over your head,
While you lay thinking that you're safe inside your bed.

A cold breeze flutters by,
Sending chills all down your spine...
Before you can look back on your life...
It's time to say goodnight.

A thorn in the bush is worth a bullet in your skull.
And that hole in your head means more than you know.
But the greatest joy that I have ever known,
Was standing over you to watch your eyes close...

I put pennies on your eyelids,
You're just a passive thought now..
While I live on for one more day,
You're just a memory in the ground...

And at those weird points of time, where the confines of the waking world blend with the world of dreams. And so I captured this fancy, where all that we see, or seem, is but a dream within a dream.

[Edgar Allen Poe]

Take the dream and times by two, now take the true and prove untrue.
Close your eyes and try to see, being there and yet not be.
Feel the heat, that seems so cold, take the young, that made them old.
To follow where the bright light goes, with closed eyes see, the dark light flows.

Never do we know the past, until we know, the moment last.
The sense we make, the sense we see, in life we take too cautiously.
To make the knowing be confused, to use the mind, we never used.

Let the darkness, and the candle, lead you to your greatest handle.
Hit the head, and hit the key, against the wall so wakefully.
For there will never be a path, that has more good and yet less wrath.

The white flag is waving....

This anger seems and thoughtless beings,
A tender kiss that's still lingering
I implore you to testify
Devise your thoughts
Commit a question to the breeze
and then release

Hatred draws on silk and stencils
to know why
you must understand broken pencils
Lost and decay, they were led astray
Unable to erase their foolish ways

Of hearts and hand grenades
It's all the same
so replace one with the other
And as I take cover
The broken pencils will rise
From their silken prisons
And clarity will be carried away

For another day this will seem simple
Pain sick mud washes off
And you may scoff, but try to realize
You should internalize the thought
That it's not always your fault.

His hands rested lightly on the keys, piano keys.

Stark black slapped almost barbarically on white; a seductive trail of dark sins marring would be perfection, lingering over a perfectly arched neck and tracing the hollow at one's throat, where soft white skin is found to be exposed and vulnerable.

He smiles, captivated by her pain- yes, sweet pain, the eventual root of his demise, the eradication of all the pieces of his soul. Her pain, captured in his eyes. His pain, reflected in hers. He could never tell whose was whose anymore- perhaps it was all hers... or all his. His soul was in pieces, each singular existence intricately woven into a tangled web of errant delicate threads too thin to deduce one true color- resembling nothing of the iridescence of transparency but neither mirroring the unfathomable black of his being, and certainly not white- white was always too innocent, too ghostly. The death pallor.

White was eternity, and black was hell. He knew this, thus he knew of the misconceptions. No, dear little ones, Hell wasn't red; Hell was embedded in these keys, softly and silently until with a slam of finality the smooth, elegantly curved black lid bites down on one's fingers, fingers which had once run feverishly over the entire length of the piano, tainting white with grime, oil, dirt, forgetting that the partial can be more than the whole.

Fingerprints from hell.

He observed now, then in one sudden fluid motion uncrossed his ankles and stood up, pushing away from the piano and almost knocking over the small leather topped stool. Almost, but not quite, he thought, proceeding to languidly brush himself down. And now, ever the observer, he saw.

Black droplets sliding off the smooth skin of his pale, translucent arm- blue veins too evident on the inside of his wrist, dripping languorously into the recess of what lay beneath, the ripples of which sliding outward as silently and stealthily as the steps of a predator hunting its prey.

[One day, I want to hear you play the piano]

Dark waters as beguilingly calm as the looking glass of vanity, mirroring his every move, action, intention, but it wasn't vanity imprinted on his mind, she was. He loved the way she thought him a manifestation of evil in raw, physical form. Each note, each key, each tone, each pause woven into a rhythm that pulsated with every rise and fall of her breath- oh yes, he knew she was troubled by it- her large, haunted eyes showed it; her sensitive snow white skin betrayed by the sizzling of a red hot coal poker, by the poignant smell of charred flesh that slid like a thick, dark honey down one's throat. She said he had betrayed her. But then, she was the one who had willingly taken away his blank, white mask to reveal the grotesque malfunction of the immorality which had once lain happily dormant beneath it.

She had pulled out the monster with her own hands, such small hands, so gentle, delicate, so easily...

crushed.

He was the sole figure of guilt riding into the haunts of innocence.

[I want to hear you play death]

Death was a tough game to play; death was everything. It was in a way of every conceivable object ever to be imagined, seared into their destinies like black writing on a pristine white page, until with a sudden jerking motion, that page is either ripped out of existence, or into existence much like the way a black hole rips into the universe, leaving only a jagged torn edge in the little black book of their lives as a forlorn reminder of the page that once was.

He took up chess, and the stake was her life. She had laughed it off, trusted him completely, eyes almost as soft as her skin, lips vulnerable as a child's, slightly chapped, with a single indent in the middle of the top lip- the old description fitted like a glove- roses filled with snow. Smiling, she had reached out, ignoring the hunter's stalk of ripples sliding out in ever expanding spheres... that is, until they had slid over her. He took a white chess piece, an ironic parody of the knight in shining amour, twirled it deftly in his fingers and with a powerful flick of his wrist slammed it on a black piece, crushing it so only splinters remained. Force was power. It was then that he thought it was a pity, had he known the piece was made of wood perhaps he would have been more careful. Now the piece was broken, irreparable- or no one had the patience to stop and pick the splinters up, glue them together. There were too many of them.

She brushed the splinters off with her hands, hands not unlike his own. She had always loved neatness- another angle on the conceptual purity. She had thought that there were many pieces like that left, that each piece was the same- a single insignificant element of a whole to be disregarded and easily replaced.

[I want to read your soul]

He leaned forward, observing the other player, the opposition, the nemesis, and hearing, as though in accompaniment to the lingering echoes of falling droplets and the quintessential melting away of his soul... the piano. He heard the piano player.

He wasn't the player.

Lilting music spoke of the desolate emptiness which signified nothing, drawn out notes bittersweet and resonant, echoing within the dark confines of his twisted mind, urging him over the brink. So simple, just one, little step and-

It was then that he realized, he was the one who had been branded.

Chosen.

Special. The word was bitter on the tip of his tongue.

Long, pale, slender fingers flashing fast- a blur of white, a smudge of grey, and a tone that was but the more definite under the harsh lighting. The black band around her ring finger flashed mockingly at him.

The darkness wasn't his, it had only slid over him, carrying him along with the current, and she, the creator of the mask, had watched. Silently. The prey never knew it was being hunted. He realized in that singular moment that injustice and immorality, death and hell, pain and suffering, they weren't always black- weren't always ugly. It was sometimes an aching tangible beauty, bathed in soothing white warmth, a corporeal thing, a touchable sustenance so close and yet always dancing just out of reach, so frustratingly far away. If only he could stretch a little further, he could reach out with trembling fingers to learn a lesson best left to the unknown, a lesson learnt too late. Almost. To be burnt like a moth drawn irresistibly to a dancing flame. Appearances deceived, only the soul spoke of indefinite truths.

Betrayal.

He stared at the antagonist.

Death leaned over the chessboard.

[Checkmate.]

Feb.25,2005. when the dusty pens used for fairy tales were brought out again.

Maybe I never got over you.

"We dream of hope, we dream of change, of fire, of love, of death. And then it happens; the dream becomes real, and the answer to this quest, this need to solve life's mysteries finally shows itself like the glowing light of the new dawn. So much struggle for meaning, for purpose. And in the end, we find it only in each other. Our shared experience of the fantastic and the mundane. The simple human need to find a kindred. To connect. And to know in our hearts... that we are not alone."

[Heroes:Mohinder Suresh]

Fly away far from my thoughts evermore
Fly, dove, for you were born to soar
You were meant for art and nothing more

If I should ever try to give chase,
Speed up, lest I see your fair face,
Fine as gold and smooth as lace

You are not for me, nor I for you
Two cruel statements, both all too true
These I must grapple with to start anew

If I should write again of your beautiful ways
It is because you are art and beg for praise
I, just an onlooker; enamored of your grace

Forgive me, for I have thought far too much
Your laugh, your eyes, your entrancing touch
I should be happy I've even seen this much

Forgive me, for I know not what I do

...Though I wish you were mine...

"I was dead until the moment I met you. I was a powerless corpse pretending to be alive. Living without power, without the ability to change my course, was akin to a slow death."

[Code Geass - Lelouch Lamperouge]

In darkened hour midnight strike
Creeping upon a moonless night
Tiptoe shadows on the stair
No mortal being is aware
Of why this silence is so odd
Knows that this peace is mere facade
At night when no one is awake
Things that were shadow now find shape
A hesitant noise a single sound
In the imagination fear abounds
The echoed wailing winds cruel taunt
Turns any home into a haunt
A nightmare world only I can see
The glaring eyes, the clawing trees
The blackened clouds that race the sky
The power of the stormy night
A world of shadow built on fear
A paranoia that death is near
It builds and grows in mounting stress
Into a scream I cant suppress
And rips the darkness like a blade
And strings out curses long forbade
The terror, the terror! Flee! Run!
And Hide until the morning sun
Rises up to drive away
The darkness with a newborn day
And shivering, sobbing, there you will lie
Scolding yourself with a small sigh
Wondering what vision you had last night
To send you into such a fright
You will live in peace and without dread
Until once again the sun has set
When shadow overcomes the light
In darkened hour, midnight strike

I call upon the past in memory of the future. I call upon blind eyes to see past the blockades of history. In the barrage of fiery torrents I feel the sting of your hands against endings of raw emotion. Bring forth a desire of such intimacy it drives every ounce of strength from this life. Like a candle in the dark, with dancing shadows ever at the change, leaving only remnant ashes in the black abyss as it fades away. One more chance, as from falling into a never past silver winds beckoning for more than just a single please, ignite what passion simply remains from screaming corners of the pleasurable mind. Just one more chance, for the light behind these soulless eyes, and the vanishing flame inside my swollen heart. I'll channel every thought into the perspective of the mind, every second to the mending of the lost times, and every thought to the one I see in imperfection bask as thought they were.

I'm trapped within my mind, a hollow tunnel with no light to follow, only a wind of snowy blades cutting deep into my mind's perspective. All but haunting faces, and daunting voices mark the inner walls of my mind, why won't they just vanish into the void of my soul? What shall this make me into, what will the molds of time produce...the next walking disaster?

Pelting rain beats against my pale skin, every drop a fist of an egoistic past, every blow taken to my mental body. And in the rain I situate, mesmerized by my past character, watching the life I had once occupied through hazing eyes. Like a star in my own debut, damned to watch the same review until times end. Repeating every scene with such excruciating detail, bring pain to every cell that lives within a vessel like I. Even after the curtains close, sets a veil over my performance, I am forced to continue my story...retold. Over and over...I drone, like a dance to a never-ending song. The song of creature so sadistic, though stitched of grace, able to fabricate such sweet aromas of luring perfumes. A tide of such aspiration, the sound of a violinist. A violinist pained but never impedes. Engaging in melody of delicate precision of grace and sorrow, intertwined. Though too many years of bleeding fingers he never recedes, always playing to my act. Why do I continue with no audience to please, the illumination bright but then uncaring. What drives me on?
With such determination I begin to wonder what is my part in life, is it naught but an over-rated act? Like a ballerina fallen from grace, dressed in an attire of battered satin. Upon her knees she gapes to the illusory audience, to only receive the disappointed eyes of hollow degrees. They ask so much, it drives the body to such extents...It's just a dance, its just another play...

A play that dies at last she sees on what observes. A lonely man shaded in the folds of darkness shroud, watching the obsessive dancer drone. With such infectious pride he takes this human as his own, 'his' daughter. But we all know, now as well as he, every act must have its end. When the solitary beauty dressed in the rags of necessities, pink tatters of a gracious costume, tears the delicate slippers from her feet. And lays down for one more eternal slumber. And what is a finale with out is accompanying music? A single lingering applaud, like a deathly lullaby. The song that surfaces in the most desperate of times, as well can be heard underneath the strings of the violin, the blood stained wires of one mans life.
The last note played, the violinist can lay down his instrument, throw it from his suffering hands, to return to whence he came. And to the single audience, a long and lonely walk home to an empty house. Past the dying lights, the dreary beat of the rhythmic ocean, and under the ivory moon. Into his dwelling he resides, inhabiting the perpetual light, his story begins...

"Under the watchful eye of a burning candle, beneath the shimmering cinders of a hopeless flame, I mourn of the simplest of things. I mourn of what I once took for granted. I no longer live the undemanding pleasures of a ritualistic life. I am no longer blessed with the detail of the rising sun or the privilege of human publicity. Always lost in grief-stitched thought, oblivious to all but the self sought reflection of stone cold visage.
Under the moonlight he waits concealed in the drapes of human fear and pure temptation. Such a lucid hold on reality, so free from the ties of sanity, no pride in immortality without a soul to save. Walking through the hells gate, into the flames of deceit, I remark is so suddenly nothing compared to promenade in damnation in a world you'll out live..."

If there's one thing I know, it's the way the thick musty summer breeze can take your confident smile, and turn it into the tiniest shrivel of pathetic dust that lurks in the middle of the Sahara desert. The beating sun, stealing away all of our vulnerable life, sucking up the pure substance that we believed we once lived off of. Our tears that we once shed for our loved ones were taken and strewn upon the land, making the oasis that our children's children swim in to this very day.
Shout (shout?) from hilltops, and make us realize that our lives are much more than a sickly exhibit for the ravenous puppeteers that put on their show for the kings, and wear us out until we can no longer help him please his guests. We are learning how to grow out of these outfits, and get rid of the strings that attach us to our mourning, hardly bearing enough skin to cover our bitter and abandoned wounds. And the time will ultimately come, where we will miss our predetermined lives, controlled by apprehension and strings of our mystic puppeteers. Crawling back to them is the last thing we should take part in. But like all the windborne cracks in the winding sidewalks of a physiologist palms would say, it's a never ending cycle, a labyrinth of pain... its... life. You can not win. You can not lose. The only thing you can do is take the thrusts of pain right to the stomach, and then die.

I could say it never happened
Just a dream from the start
But then I'd live my life
With a broken heart....

Forgive me my brother for what I've had to do
The blood that I've spilled once belonged to you
My might against yours, thus it must be
My blade against you and yours against me
May faith persevere, may time heal today
May wisdom prevail, may light lead the way
An enemy's strength in a brother's eyes
A warrior is born, and a warrior dies
My brother your pardon I beg

Dance, little girl.
Dance for your soul.
When all else is ripped apart
pray that you remain whole!

But 'oh, sweet dagger' as my dear Romeo replies, you shall let me free of all the misery. You shall open up my heart and pour out my love, pour out all my dreams. They shall all be unleashed.

And you shall have in your soul the blame of my sleep.

A two piece broken heart,
a one track mind

Why can't you see?
Are you really that blind?

Erase the facts,
fill it in with fiction.
This is not love, it's an addiction.

The past is not the present
yet you can't let go.
Holding on to an autumn leaf
while your knee deep in snow.

Your soul torn and tattered,
love's locket shattered.

Do you like the shards?
are they nice and sharp?
Do you enjoy seeing the fragments of your fractured heart?

I remember the day I left,
Like a dream in my head,
I remember that last smile you gave,
And remember what you said,
You said, "love's the highest mountain,
You don't have to reach the top,
As long as you keep climbing,
And you never want to stop."

Back then I took no notice,
Just shook my head and sighed,
I never thought that leaving
Would leave you where you cried,
It's only now that I'm alone
I recall those words of yours,
And dearly wish I'd listened,
To that wisdom of yours.

You were the glow that turned
The night back into day,
A candle burning bright to drive
The emptiness away,
But now I've left forever,
The night has crept right back,
Your light has been extinguished,
This darkness never looked so black.

Now I see friends fading,
As my pride departs,
And long to hear those whispers,
Coming from your heart,
I know you know I want you,
To know that what I meant is,
To leave you for such a cause,
Was non compos mentis.

I remember the day I left,
Like a flower by my death bed,
Because living without you,
Is just like being dead,
Love's the highest mountain,
You don't have to reach the top,
Just as long as you keep climbing,
And never want to stop.

A million stories that made up a million shattered dreams...

The blood of fate drips upon the effervescence world,
As we cherish the shell that we've hardened upon ourselves,
Yet when the time for change has come, we fear it.
Our perfect, happy futures are at stake, we see it.
For some, to better oneself after hardship and burden,
Molests our sheer freedom to rebel in childish ways,
To say "Flip the world!" and "Whatever" is blasphemy.
Yet to say "I will be better" and "Forever is never" is treachery.

We are the future. We shall live longer than our ancestors,
The dusts of the earth mock us in tiresome ways,
Yet the essence of the future relies on us.
For without us, they are nothing. We are their creator.
We are their life, when some will never believe in such.
We will spawn them, and they shall turn against us,
Against the ways we have set--such is life.
Such is change, the way to adapt to celestial revolution.

And they will learn, learn from our mistakes,
Just to end up repeating them in different ways.
For time is like a river and its flow a repeat,
Yet water evaporates, so can time change too?
Yet it condensates, will time recreate?
Does time ever freeze? Or will it simply melt away,
Like our fragile lives, wrought from morality and fear.
Fear to do something different, fear not to do the same thing, every year.

For every grown individual has a civil war inside of them,
A demon and an angel, a snake and a dove.
One who tells you to do wrong for sheer pleasure,
One who tells you to do right for sheer destruction.
To do good is really to do bad to the ones who are,
To do bad is really to do nothing to help anyone.
To keep the neutrality is impossible,
And if you do, you are a fool.

A fool who believes in nothing,
A fool who has no faith in themselves.
For one, to be a fool is perfection,
Yet for the other, a fool is miasma.
To be perfect is to have no flaws,
To be flawed is to be blessed.
To be emotionally invincible is to be perfect,
To be perfect is sociopathism.

This is my epitaph to you all,
To rise above my ashen past,
And burn into a time forevermore.
For my tears have burned away,
And hope for the old world has died away.

It was dark. You could barely see him, slouched down on the pavement. His arms rested on his knees and his head was tipped back on the rough red of the wall.
A car rushed past. He closed his eyes and sighed. Lifting his head he rose to his feet. I miss you, he said quietly to the empty street.

It began to rain gently. He looked up to the dim street post; the light seems so alone, like it couldnt touch its surroundings. It was so close but still so far - he began to walk. Splash...splash. His runners led him through avoidable puddles. But he didnt care. He wasnt walking through puddles, it wasnt past midnight, and he wasnt alone.

The street turned. It made its way between buildings, through tunnels and down black alleyways, leading him through the darkness. The pavement - it cant forget; memories become landmarks.

The stars began to show. He lifted his head to the eyeless moon peeking through the clouds. When did the sun stop shining? He silently questioned the mute replacement. Drip...drip. His question was answered. A year, a year that emptiness had been filling with every tear - till he would drown. Drown in the memories - the ones that were calling him tonight.

The clouds were parted. The skies were left barren and cold; the stars were as frozen tears, suspended. A warm tear broke free and fell across the cheek of the night as his own began to fall.

A car rushed past. He closed his eyes and sighed. Lifting his feet he climbed the steps to that place where everything seemed to come together and fall apart at once. He cried, its too late...but its the closest I can be...
It was dark. You could barely see him, kneeling down on the concrete; his arms raised up and his forehead tipped forward on the cracked red of the door. Alone. Memories can seem so real...But they can never be real enough.

I am a product of wishful thinking, fruitless hoping, and poor planning.
Despite the world, I breathe, I feel, I bleed.

Life exerts itself against me, and this body pushes through the currents in a struggle for something yet unattainable. Spirits filter around me in a soft sea of ever-flowing calm. Because I am human, I hate, I love, I fear.

My mind is corrupted with spider webs, lost on dewdrop prisms of natures perfect circle and spun inside a cocoon of solitude. When I stare, I stare beyond the lines of sight, into an ethereal sensation of light.
When nature inspires, I study, I write, I understand.

Calm peace wraps my soul, though the toils of this world are hard against my mortal heart. Something wonderful drips from my fingertips, presses sensations to glittering images and guilty words. Emotional logic, I think, I feel, I watch.

I have talked to my soul, met my twin, loved more passionately, hated more deeply than any could imagine. I have hurt and been hurt, loved and been loved, tortured myself and others, broken hearts and mended broken hearts, given all that I had and yet taken all I had. I am complete and incomplete. Sad and disappointed, happy and content. I am a paradox of all paradox, a bitter union of bliss and desperation, a dark past and a bright future collided into the myriad droplets of present.
This is my magic pool..my pleasure and pain, my hope and my fear.

I am nothing more than I am, and I am everything I can be.
I am more alive today than ever I have felt.
Even though this life is killing me......

If you aren't remembered, then you never existed.

Stumbling around in the silence, a world of worries, responsibilities and distrust weigh down on the fragile shoulders of my insanity. Stopping for a moments rest before I begin my journey of survival all over again...I sit. I wait. I breathe deeply, savoring my temporary peace.

Picking up my burdens, my responsibilities and shame. I continue on. I walk through the worn and torn streets, garbage swirling around my feet, smog clouding my thoughts and lungs.

A thief steals my hope, a taxman takes my pride. I'm stripped bare of my light, till I've been plunged back into the darkness. Left, used and abused to gather what fragments are left, so that when they come again, they leave happy...an idea I have long since abandoned...

Slipping into lifeless routine, days all slip pass. Memories mingle and slur, till there's nothing but a confusing blur. Caught like a rabbit in headlights, captured by the gleam of the Worlds 'welcoming' existence...you all expect me to survive. But when a rabbit versus a car.... there's no imagination needed to know the outcome.

"One day you'll wake up to reality...and die."

By the light of the moon beneath our sacred willow tree,
Crippled by torment, I dream of a love that can no longer be.
Where shadows dance and darkness dwells,
I struggle to find a way out of my private hell.

Sky-clad I kneel upon our hallow birthing ground.
Longing to be in your arms where I felt safe and sound.
Where are you my morning sorcerer, why won’t you answer my plea?
Why can’t you hear your midnight witch singing for thee?

A grave now stands where we used to lay in perfect harmony,
A place for mourning marked by our weeping willow tree.
Lying directly above you upon your eternal resting place,
I sigh a lover’s sigh, wishing I could see the perfection of your face.

Your essence will forever haunt me,
Turning what we had into a sadistic memory.
You were my fate, my true destiny.
How do I go on, without you here beside me?

How do I find the strength to say goodbye?
How can I live when your memories refuse to die?

BECAUSE LOVE WAS FOREVER....
or so I thought


I gave you my heart and that's all I can give you.
And if that's not enough, then I'm not enough.

Drowning in a pool of thought, I cry out to the winds.
And sing my songs of deep regret of long forgotten things.

I flail out in the dark abyss, to strike an unseen foe.
I hear its voice ring in my head yet cannot land a blow.

I thrash till these, my arms, lose strength, and fall to this my fate.
Crushed by wretched memory, of pure undying hate.

And as I sink to these dark depths, these cesspools of my mind,
The voice, with flaming breath, it speaks, of evils pure and blind

It spoke, it sang, of actions past, of evils and their toll.
It spoke, it sang, of pain that lasts, that slowly kills the soul.

And with each verse this demon speaks I lose my will to live.
With this my blade, a silver knife, to death my life I give.

Yet, as my blood flows to the earth, it speaks its final line
And only then I realize...this demon's voice…was mine…

I should have never let you let me go...

We are hanging over a sea of knives and spears.
The land beneath us has disappeared.
Gravity shuns us to our doom.
We tried to find a place in fate's heart but, there is no room.

You did it, you did it, goodbye.
You love me, you love me, you fell for me.
The swords they puncture your legs, your arms, deep in your skin.
They push into your heart until you bleed within.
The sweetening sorrow comes over me,
I clinch tighter to the rope as I watch you scream.

In order to survive, one of us must fall.
Confess your inner feelings darling, confess it all.
Because a single thread can't hold us for too long.

Sometimes there are no words....no clever quotes to neatly sum up whats happened that day.


Sometimes...the day....just....ends.

"For millions of years flowers have been producing thorns. For millions of years sheep have been eating them all the same. And it's not serious, trying to understand why flowers go to such trouble produce thorns that are good for nothing?

It's not important, the war between the sheep and the flowers?...

Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, even without realizing what he's doing - that isn't important?

If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself, 'My flower's up there somewhere...' But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn't important?'"


[The Little Prince]

WHAT IF THE PERSON YOU WERE MEANT TO BE WITH COULD NEVER BE YOURS?

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

[William Ernest Henley]

Presence of a thought in a feeble mind,
Like shadows left to the mercy of a dying candle flame
A delirious sense of being, unfolding visions inexplicable,
So many factors, who should get the blame?

Draining hope of everything it has,
Screaming through the silence of your voice,
A short sojourn to eternity and back,
Horizons of sanity; where art thou?

Maybe this wasn’t what I planned
Wasn’t what I had in mind
You write your own future
You can’t rewrite your past
I keep all your photographs in a box
Shut up and sealed with tape
Your letters line the walls of my room
I can’t escape your words
Haunting, like the memory of your smile
The first time we met
Maybe this wasn’t what I planned
Can’t play with fire, toy with fate
Swap signs, I turned left at the crossroads
Should have taken a right…
Lost and wandering clichéd paths
And so my heart stopped beating
When our eyes stopped colliding
You may not be exquisitely handsome
But you were to me
Stare,
Stare at me forever
I’d love to see you when you’re old
Never tire of that smile
Maybe this wasn’t what I planned
The realisation hits so hard sometimes
All I can do is put my head in my knees
Suffocate in the dark
Until your thoughts pull me out again
Sometimes in the mornings I pretend
I’ll see you today
You’d pick me up again
Twirling round, round and round
Constant spinning helps settle my head
Since you let go of my hand…
This wasn’t what I planned
To be able to remember exactly how it felt
To have your lips whisper my name
I can still feel your skin on mine
The waters so hot to burn the pain away
Hell, I still I love you

She strode down the walk that dissipated in the distance
At twilight the scattered flakes of space dust began to glow beyond
The silence of the night came creeping in on quiet haunches
Only a few sparse remnants of the day still lingered
Like laughter mingling with the evening news
A rogue bird twittering goodbye to the sun
Stragglers of the day in quick passing
She bid them a faint smile and ignored the churning of her insides
The fresh air and crisply fragrant breeze helped to subdue her torment
Grinding her teeth, she trudged onward towards the horizon
Determined never to go back
But she would
Whether it was with or without her heart
The thoughts on her mind weighed heavy on her heart
Wrenching themselves tightly around it
Each worry was another razor-sharp truth biting at her moral
The clouds seemed to follow her
Looming ever so discreetly where she couldn't see
But close enough for her to feel them hanging there
Fresh disappointments lay like crimson shards underfoot
She wouldn't allow herself to look down and remember
She stopped
Stood for a moment to look up at the stars
Her breath crept tentatively from her cherried lips
The corners of her mouth tugged down as she thought
And looked
And felt
The entirety of the universe staring back at her for that moment
And watching her breath draw away from her mouth into the cold air
She said to no one in particular
So this is what sadness feels like

I'm breaking; I can't do this on my own
Can you hear me screaming out, am I all alone?

And so it is:
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

Thirty ways of revenge
Now, the day has come
Have you ever felt like something belongs in your heart?
That something is missing from your life,
Even though it's just a stone's throw away?

So have I.

Have you ever felt the weight of your failures compounded on your back?
A missed chance here, a ruined one there,
Many regrets that can't be made right?

I've been there too.

Have you ever done whatever it is that you really wanted to do?
To go to the places you wanted to go,
And say the things that really needed to be said?

I wish I could say I have.

Have you ever made a mistake and instantly felt the regret?
You know you shouldn't have said it,
You know you shouldn't have done it.

Yeah, me too.

Have you ever felt, that in the end, none of your actions mean anything to anyone?
That time will make the world forget you,
And that people will still go on living?

I feel it all the time.

Everyone and everything melts in and out of clarity, like someone turned off the normal flux of reality- or switched life to one of the snowy channels. Even when someone you know interrupts your aimless journey through the faceless, diluted masses, you only recognize them as though some distant, recurring dream... Like a memory half-formed, which you respond to in a voice not your own.

When the auto-play button is switched on inside your head, your head...detached, yet anchored despite itself to the rest of you, inevitably, but drifting further away from your shore of consciousness than it's ever been... It's an orange buoy, a dot on a foggy horizon of slow; uneven waters... tussled in the lazy automatisms of reality's fuzzy wavelengths.
Everything's faded, pointless, yet ongoing, like a carnival ride of no passengers... and you just know that it should all stop, because it's not going anywhere. A running engine without a frame or purpose, a clock without the occurrence of time, such things just shouldn't be, and the staggering realization of it instead makes you stop, to contemplate it in its glorious uselessness.

But it doesn't bother you. Somehow, it's supposed to be that way, and you feel neither sadness nor confusion at the diffusion of logic surrounding you... And in fact, you feel nothing at all really, except what might be felt by a faulty bolt, whose bicycle has kept cycling on without it, after it has fallen to the ground. And like the bolt, though you've never felt so alone and useless, you don't feel sad, because at the same time, you've never felt so free.

Though now, you've no one who could possibly understand that, to share your sentiments with. You try to really revel in the taste of that unprecedented liberation from something you could not pinpoint in the first place, something you alone found between the waves of pointlessness and the constant, aimless, motions of life. Before that though, the realization that your own frequency is clear and untainted, above the heads of the swirling, noisy masses below you, is stupefying, because you finally see that without the bustle, you never could have escaped from it in the first place. And you see that really, being so different from everyone else is not only almost impossible a state to maintain, but it's also something that is dependent on the very same homogenous surroundings and actions you desired being free from. It defeats the purpose of having waded through the muddle to begin with, because now that you've attained your new view, it's lonely at the top.

It's as though your beautiful solitude is too bright, too outstanding and demanding... and you awaken, again aware of your need to be a sleepy automaton in order to survive. You suddenly crave the structured nonsense of life's uncertain paths, you crave the anonymity of the masses, and though indifferent they are. You return to being a blood cell in the greater entity of life, and you hope and pray that no one noticed how far your head had strayed, how pompously high it had floated overhead. You're ashamed of how rebellious you'd been, and the hive remains your only comfort. So you start smiling again, your android shell recommencing its perpetual motions of greeting and interaction, and it laughs... it laughs... even though inside, the silence is deafening again.

You're waiting to be born again; you're a fetus in your own mind. The walkman noises of life are what you hear, while the fuzzy, filtered mirage is the only thing your eyes can see, though for a split second, you had popped your head out to get a clearer view.

Though for those few brief moments, you had poked outside yourself and groped at life with something beyond your senses, it proved too loud, too bright... too foreign and indescribable. All the sensual languages that make up your life proved too weak to really grasp it, or to even hold on long enough to really see it.

So, you go back inside where it's safe, and continue along your muffled, censored path, strewn with other senseless marionettes such as yourself, and you laugh...in the deafening silence.

One day the dreamer died within me...When all my answers never came,
I hid the truth beneath my skin but my shadow never looked the same.

Darkness is taking over from all the things you said
What else can I do to get it through your thick head?
Yeah, you...there. It's a good idea to run and hide,
Don't want to be here with the anger I feel inside.

You've stomped me down, and made me feel so small.
It's quite obvious now, I just don't care at all.
You've torn me apart inside with all the things you said,
It's obvious to me now that I'd rather have you dead!

Your turn is over now, my time to take the wheel,
Won't be my heart you break, but yours I will steal!
I will make sure that you feel as I did long before,
Crying with a breaking heart, left with nothing more.

You may think that I'm going crazy, oh, just say what you know!
It's you that's driven me to this your now my enemy, my foe!
I'll break all my promises, as you've broken all yours,
Stop doing that to me, you know I will level the score.

All the lies you've told me, all those times you swore,
That you wouldn't lie, wouldn't lie to me anymore.
But that was a lie too, I was a fool to believe you,
I should have said so but I didn't have the heart to.

Remember that time you made me feel so alone?
You left me to cope with my troubles on my own.
I hope you're happy with what you have done, you rat,
I swear to God that I'm gonna get you for all that!

Call me evil, you can say whatever you want to,
This is what I want to say, what I want to do to you.
I'm fed up with these broken promises that you send,
After all this, I'm going to make this my sweet sweet revenge.

WHERE ARE YOU?

Days spent in an endless ring,
I pray for night to come, just to hear him sing.
“Sleep now and leave your world behind,
Come to me, I am waiting inside your mind.”

Who is this beautiful stranger waiting for me to sleep?
Why is it only in my dreams, I am his to keep?

I see his face within my dreams,
Handsome with a light I’ve never seen.
The curve of his lips, and the shade of his eyes,
Are filled with a kindness that my world would despise.

Is he real, or an escape my mind has created for my sanity?
How can I love a figment of imagination, and feel nothing for humanity?

Trusting his voice as I have trusted no other,
I tumble down the rabbit hole, floating down to him like a feather.
Catching and cradling my body like a precious treasure,
I hear his heartbeat against mine inspiring feelings of ultimate pleasure.

Whose world is real, and whose is false?
How can both exist, how can both have a pulse?

I dread the dawn that always comes,
For on its heels, I hear another song.
Sleep again my treasured love, and leave this world for another dream,
When you wake, you’ll find the hole that will help you find your way to me.

Which is reality and which is fantasy?
When will he leave his world to be with me?

I know I’ll never trust a single thing you say
You knew your lies would divide us but you lied anyway
And all the lies have got you floating up above us all
But what goes up has got to fall

(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)
(If I could take all the shame to the grave I would)

Hearing your name the memories come back again
I remember when it started happening
I see you in every thought I had and then
The thoughts slowly found words attached to them
And I knew as they escaped away
I was committing myself to them and everyday

[Linkin Park - Hit The Floor, Figure 09, Easier to Run]

"And the pain here that I feel, try and tell me its not real...but it seems that I still have some tears to shed"

[Tim Burton's Corpse bride]

A face she knows so well
Hiding secrets she will never tell
She looks deep into the eyes, just to be ignored
The reality of her past, can't reveal all that has been stored
She looks for a smile, a little hint of what she needs to find
The empty pockets of her dreams, leaves her hollow and blind

My love was thrown aside
As rage in my heart competed,
The love left inside slowly died

Sanity became an afterthought,
Rage and hate; a way of life,
Love and compassion were forgotten
When I thought of him.

One night when no more I could take,
I snuck into his room late at night
And when, after the screams I left,
Left behind was a gruesome sight

I knew my life could not last,
And when the police asked why,
I shook my head, and with tears, said,
"Betrayal is a worse way to die"

I stopped feeling anything anymore....

The wanderer is jostled by another passerby; his face is expressionless, his eyes are downcast, yet his thoughts are a storm. The last traces of light twist across an open sky, splashed red across the sparkling canvas. Dressed like an old wizard, the wanderer holds a gnarled staff, and is wrapped in a gray cloak that is dirty and worn. His pounding step is like an obscure beat; thump, thump, thump. The staff is held firmly; his hands slide up and down its surface when he pounds the twisted wood into the ground in time with his walking beat. The wanderer hears the music of voices joined in harmony. He seeks out each individual so that he may discover their song.

Whispering words, traveling through empty breezes. Collecting at the bottom of an abandoned stair well, of used up hopes and dreams. Graffiti walls and swirling rubbish, home to the few who saw no way out. Feeling pain, sorrow and anger, building, rising, covering all senses, taken up all room, till nothing is left.

Feeling nothing, but emptiness. A lack of reason, constantly wondering why... how....and when will it all end.

A look, a curse, a laugh... all diminish the last threads of hope...only to go away, be left alone, to weave the threads back to rope...only to once again be downgraded by those who claim to be friends, and enemies claiming that they're all innocent...when no one truly is.

Feeling useless and only being left out, constantly in the dark, till darkness is all you know...you no longer wish for the light, for it is too painful.

But you do not wish to be in the dark....for you are always alone...you are always blind...


"Abandoned to the hate, the evil.. you take comfort in its darkness. For the darkness is all you know, it was the only thing that was there... when you were most vunerable."

Sorry girl, but you missed out
Well tough luck that boy's mine now

We are more than just good friends
This is how the story ends

Too bad that you couldn't see
See the man that boy could be

There is more than meets the eye
I see the soul that is inside...

[Avril Lavigne: Sk8er Boi]

People who do not have patience, I do not help at all; I nag and pest. I don't mend one's fear. I simply snap the strings and let them fall. Others can cry and plead for help, but still I show no mercy. You can easily compare my face to a decating eggplant. My mind holds more patience than that of a novel. I cannot feel remorse or pain; which can bleed me dry. Reflections of worries errupt from my center - creating a supernova...when the sun shines, my eyes dont even begin to squint.

Time for me is of the past and present, bringing about pain...for when you're on my road the path stretches forever.

The rain comes
When I’m like this the rain comes,
The gray skies combine with my teary eyes.
When I’m like this my past is my present, I cannot hide.
Why live once I’ve died.
When I’m like this the rain pours,
Pounding down with no remorse.
The rain seems to hide who I really am
Or am I just too confused to know where I stand.
I wash my past away,
In the rain I will come back one day.
To my grave I will visit,
To my love I will say:
“Here we are again, where were you that day?”
The rain washes our sins away, the rain sets us free.
The past is dead, like me.
Together we will make it, we will start anew.
But first we have to die, to make our future true.

The most painful thing is to be hated by someone you truly love.

Can you turn these silent somber wilting roses red
Can you breathe your life to her now that she is dead
Can you get here fast enough as the crow flies
To meet my sorry ending and my kisses and goodbyes

Through the miles and mile stones, flick across the stars
And catch me like an afterthought as I step in front of cars
So caught and reconsidered I hesitate a little longer
But only in your company do I feel the least bit stronger

The crow flies, without sleep or food, determined now to stop me
With solitude and cyanide I plan how to do this properly
And with one last kiss I surrender, with lips against the glass
Its snatched and its broken and so another moments passed

You hold me in your arms with your fingers in my hair
You cry and I cry and there is monoxide in the air
I'm running out of reasons and running out of time
But I can hold on just knowing you are mine

What is it that I have done so wrong? Did I somehow make your world stop turning? If I did, I wish there were someway to start it back up again. All I've been trying to do is make you proud of me. I guess I screwed that up too. When I figured that out, I stopped trying. That didn't make you happy or proud either. I sit and wonder why I even exist in your world, since I'm not doing anything right in it. Are you upset at my existence, I wonder. If you are, then I will take back every memory of me you have, and will erase myself from your life.....

This Time in Life I tried my best,
To give my Love with out no rest.
I gave all I had as time went by,
Even tears when I did cry.
I made some errors as you do know,
I tried to learn as time did go.
As I grow older, you still can't see,
All that Love I had in me.

There's more to me than what you see
Fragments of a soul I choose to be
Thoughts in my mind you'll never know
I'm only the things I choose to show

Graceless lies upon my shelf
Books of dreams kept to myself
Enchanted night only I embrace
Unfinished thoughts forgotten in haste

Woke one day to see the sun
And realized I'm not anyone
Apart from me, my quiet disguise
But in my solitude, I feel alive

----------------------------------------

Tearing me open but I can’t break free
From the chaos inside I know it’s just not me
In your eyes I was the summer sun
You saw through my darkened eyes
To what no one could see

Everything around me is fading so fast
I don’t want to be the one who fades last
And I can’t comprehend
What this is doing to me

----------------------------------------

Someday, my eyes will open up
And I’ll realize I’ve wasted my time
Then, I’ll look out at a new world
And I’ll see what I’ve always felt inside
Realizing, I’ve yet to live
My life is nothing but lying
Realizing, I have to scream
My life is not worth hiding
Someday, you’ll look at me
With eyes that can’t afford blinking
Then, you’ll notice something there
And understand without ever thinking

----------------------------------------

There was a time I'd give anything to smile
Now I'd give anythign to go back to that time
I'd do anything now to stop crying

----------------------------------------

I'm the dead that's never dying
Existing though my soul's still hiding
Living in a constant fear
I've seen everything I can here

I'm the flower that's never blooming
Being though I am not working
Falling under so much doubt
I've passed my time for coming out

I'm the storm that won't stop raging
Sick of calm and done with waiting
Pouring till there's nothing left
I've still got rain to fall down yet

I'm the truth that's never lying
Cringing through the dark world's crying
Seeing what you'll never see
All because I'm stuck as me

At this moment there are 6,470,818,671 people in the world. Some are running scared. Some are coming home. Some tell lies to make it through the day. Others are just not facing the truth. Some are evil men, at war with good. And some are good, struggling with evil. Six billion people in the world, six billion souls. And sometimes...all you need is one.

Body’s rusting in the rain,
I am trying to forget and be forgotten.
Something clawing from the inside at my brain,
Something ghastly, dark and rotten.

NOBODYCARES You don't wanna be around when it all comes down, even heros know when to be scared..

When my thoughts and I are all alone,
I'm left with memories which I have owned.
There were times which brought both smiles and tears,
and the ones we knew throughout the years.
I think of now compared to then.
The thing the same is what has been.
And as those years will come and go,
there is one thing that I'll always know.
Oh all the memories that I hold so dear,
the owners of those are rarely near.
And with each and every mile I passed,
I carry my Memories which will always last.
When silence takes over and I'm feeling sad,
I think about the friends I've had.
But in my travels within my mind,
there's was always one most specially kind.
So I take this moment and chance to say...
the thought of you enriches my day.

[dedicated to xInfinteSky: my bestest friend]

Swollen cloud of people
they distort like the mist.
amongst the masses is a man
old and derelict..
ripped away from his pride
drowned by open wounds
he waits in longing pain
for death to come to him soon..

I stand afar and stare.
I wonder what’s his story,
the life that he has led
as he sits and begs before me..
the people walk right by
with their own woes to worry on.
he stares with unphased eyes
at the past which lingers on..

He combs his hair with his hand
and scribbles something down
he closes his eyes and hums
and waves his arm around..
in the heart of this old man
burns an artist underneath
that no one had ever noticed
because his outline's just skin deep..

The urge to go over and ask...
"what tale do you have to say?"
is suppressed by the fear of him
which impels my feet to stay..
I sleep tonight in thought
of the marvel that I saw..
inspired by a mysterious man
I get up and write in awe..

In a swollen cloud of people
distorting like the mist.
amongst the masses is a man
old and derelict..
I stand in my familiar place
and watch his calm cold face
his eyes show something else
fear, guilt, shame and hate

We are a kindred pair
so inspired by a life of hurt
but my heart cannot come close
to the horrors he's seen on earth
again he starts to write
in a trance, fixed and surreal
I stare and admire his passion
as he lets out what’s been concealed

He hums a beautiful song
but its muffled by the mist..
the people rush on by
his song is lost amidst..
my eyes fill with anger
as he fades away in sorrow..
his art will go unheardand
I wont see him till tomorrow

I write tonight in fury
so upset with the world im in
upset with my own soul too
who didn’t go and talk to him
next time I will have my chance
to hear that enchanting song
I sleep feeling so empty
as my soul is left forlorn....

In a swollen cloud of people
distorting like the mist..
amongst the masses is a man
old and derelict..
bowed against the wall
his head hung in deep rest
the wrong time to approach him
but I cannot stop this eagerness

I wade through the mist
their story worthless and faded
they will die in their ignorance
fall to the bliss that they've created
I reach the unreachable
and shake his shoulder softly..
but his soul had left last night
and he slides to the floor... empty

I choke on silent words
no tear can justify the grief
so I reach down to his clenched fist
and quote a note it keeps..

"Sparrows pass, nameless, narrow.
to some dominion they will follow.
this heart shall bleed till its omega
and be forgotten to the hollow."

Through a broken window.
The other side of the mirror.
No time left to kill, no time to live, no time to die.
Spiritual eclipse.
Skeletal remains of emotion.
Hypocritical mentality.

I wrote a world yesterday
The stars seemed not so far away
For a silhouette of shattered dreams
And crying children’s ripping seams

Heinous crimes have been committed
Arsenic flowers have been acquitted
And with the sigh of morning death
The stars themselves have lack of breath

Lilies sing a sickly song
Of soaring battles and heroes gone
And daisies gather round to hear
Tales of men and lacking fear

Hindered spirits remain to kill
And scorched contempt continues still
Dances dance, but not the same
To a tune never played again

Sinning spree forever worn
Angels pure waiting to scorn
Pixies and demons live as one
In a land built on the sun

Hearing was once some gift
Too precious a gem to even lift
Contorted faces fill the mirror
Twisted images so unclear

Yellow feats that none can best
A pallid fate to stand the test
Raindrops fatal come to tea
In a brilliant reverie

Brass knobs of horror conjure soon
A sight to sting the sorest wound
Tallies stand like soldiers tall
And numbers await to take their fall

Creating malice to and fro
Beasts condemned to never know
A tale of moon and story of stars
Of a land built in galaxies far

Hindered homes formed to last
In presence of the forbidden cast
The king’s players could not compete
And the coliseum echoed defeat

Blinds of whites hold treasures dear
Of sin, of sorrow, of joy, of fear
Breaking once what never was
On land built on fire, just because…

Devils preach and angels lie
Of this land built in the sky
Nomads land and sinners ball
Infants to walk and men to crawl

Unknown elegy sung just one time
Questioned words in clouds shine
Razor blades hating a constant glow
Of rhymes and poems we’ll never know

Screaming primates to rule us all
For we’ve invited our own fall
Look now, our end’s begun
On this land built on the sun.