The World's Façade III

     The absolute sure will grow into an infinite doubt. Like a newborn assumed to be the epitome of innocence, shall change into the human an tangible form of angst and resent. You came into a cruel world with the expectations of an adopted mule and shall leave a heave of despise for everything was a façade, a series of charades with no answers to be found. I sit beneath a tree of unknown origin and ponder whether I have become what I oath to never become or that it is nature that I have? Visions filled with missions falls into deaf ears only even becoming words written in birches and oaks. The words of a familiar voice will be your anchor towards the gutsful winds of greed. We bleed to agree, and lie to gain glee. Rocks and minerals may be minimal, but their existence is vital. Like them are you, small compared to the big blue above. be a dove that soars the sky, do not be threatened with your power to fly. 

Words Walk

    The Brittle born whom are beaten and bitten, births the brave and bold for the bruised and burdened. As how the bereaved believed being bestowed a place in heaven, Havoc the hastened and hone the hurt to heat thy winter hearts. A heap of hope hovering our minds hinders a humane pride. Prejudice proposes a picturesque pasture whilst plummets the poisonous truth. Tell the traitors their sin. Sonder souls sing symphonies sold some centuries fold in each hum. Hunt heathens in hellish plains of which is the only place with no façade. Aid the ill in infinitive interest for it shall indulge you with vigorous stories. Stand upon sands of sad sailors sailing in sorrow an deceit. Deprive the demanding dozen of devoted dreams. As the divided holds in their voices.

Another Face of The World II

     Citrus, Dragonfruits, and butterflies colored a minimal urbanized alleys. Neither would you call it a forest nor the suburbs. Wheels paraded the soil as how an old toilet has become an ecosystem for a new life. Greens, limes, and helmets for pots paint a nostalgic home through the sun's rays. The babies and bees sings with the chickens and stray muts. A free breeze chains me into a mind fixated to unwind. Cobwebs shelters the gumamelas from grains of humane green. They feed on our joy as how we jest on their suffering. Troubling the roots towards the means to loose hope. At the verge of fading, staying is death, misery met. The lattice segregating the own and owned, slowly stoned by the hands of tome. Hear the birds and cicadas chime.

The Swallowed Truth III

     Life is a blank age ad yr consciousness is its ink. I paddle to the water of nihilism, the more that faces and voices came and go. The more days where the sun rises , increases your doubt of ones existence. The mind will think about itself as how you will think about others. Fool you are to believe you see the chaos the world is. You are being led into a lie that will rot you 'till your very last heave. For once in your life, watch lives come and go then you shall find the meaning of life in words that can never be limited to one or two words. Life is an infinite sentence its only end being the death. Allow yourself to break loose if it means tat it may be the only way you will find yourself, The world that you need is you , your mind is the word you must heed.

The World's Façade II

     A façade's tomb will curse you with despise, cries, and bruising lies. Some sees it as a price, prize, or an ultimate sacrifice. That will suffice into and upon the unruly world. We hurl at the idea of greatness so we coerce it into its ow grave. Lowered into a cave no light has touched, if so, you may as we leave a hush. That much can fill an abyss in your mind, unwind into seismic silhouettes, find yourself in torn cassettes. Placing bets on an uncanny ride while the tide rises up your pride, you will suddenly realize that everything and anything at once shall collide. With no guide, your eyes will shiver at the sight of truth ad all you think of is a casket and a suit. Like a brute the storm will serenade familial woes, and shows that emotions only grow once everything is lower. They shall hover over your corpse, by luck would they lend an escort as you live the world of a mute and leave the world you only know. Tows you lower and colors one by one left the corners of your sight. You are now enraptured by plight.

Laced Soul

     Deprived of attention drives a manic into destruction, until its wits wither like tulips under spring's touch. With a hunch, we manifest prophecies, growing into policies for the vulnerable to follow. Drowned in your gaze, is a sole soul sold to greed agreed by creed. Uproot the seed and it shall I bask in the sun. and it shall never be anything more. We broke the rule which we whispered in ears, thus severe our ties with its authoritative sheers. Cheers on the other field an be heard whilst our garden is descended with despair. We share a mind but divide by heart, for we are a art meant to be torn apart. The rapids and ripples l sing our names while we sulk in the silence as we are pinned by or own chains . You will grow to be hollow as I will run free, comes with the price that you will resent me. With glee, I look back to what was once ours, then look out into the vast I paddle with my oars. As I set course for a journey without you, the future I need will come into view. The new life where I will no longer bask in your hue.

I Loathe You Once In A Blue Moon II

     Whenever I start to remember you, I would anchor my consciousness with the truth, as though it is  a prescribed medication. The wind will serenade the somber sun as how the lengthy lyrics will bore the unwilling. The night is brighter than the afternoons showered in golds and champaigns. Drown in the sonnets that lays your heart rest and buries your still beating heart to prevent from shattering further. I wish I never met you, I wish you never sat beside me that day, or interest to be exchanged. You were the journey I loath. There is no sun to set for us, only a moon to rise for me and you. You are the ship I pray sins in the trenches you yourself built. I believe I must cry, but that would make my eyes close, I cannot afford to miss a single moment now. May our memories scorch your soul as how mine is now in ashes.

The Swallowed Truth II

     I hold Cupid's bow while I get impaled by its arrows. Love in my life, is meant to be seen but not felt or I shall disperse into ashes and shatter into fragments to be swallowed by the world's greed. I am as forbidden written in stories to put children to rest, the selfish that sincere eyes must turn a blind eye to. The lips I have hones to grace another will now be buried in frost as how I shall be buried with an empty hand. The hope I harvest and harvested will wither into the pavements of the Ignorants and Menaces. This curse will manifest a vindictive light for all to see and resent. Love in my life, will fade like the quinks in tales as old as time. The arms of time will be hindered by the vines of memories as how the springs with no life to show will embed into the roots of those that had stayed to listen. Cupid can Never Love.

The World's Facade

     Sonnets are the new prayers of tattered hearts, as how mourning has become the sacred practice of appreciation. The Value is only seen when and once it no longer stays, it is nature to want what was never there and ignore what is. Doors are paths the restless confer to whilst windows become salvation to the holistic minds. A flower will be cherished for its pleasing display whilst the withered will be thrown despite being once a flower. The plain planes that carves the big blue above, resents the green beneath, of which its origins. History has become a comedy to the likes of my father, a tragedy to the ears of mu mother. Actors roam the streets for the intention of being seen by eyes that scorn them. Fools that remain in the same green pasture are smarter than those whom claim they are. Never reach for the stars, it is just.

The Swallowed Truth

     My heart is a pavement, the truth I have come to accept and swallow. My mind, an obstacle to the greed and pride whom continues to taunt my deepest desires. I would like to believe that I am stronger with how far I have held up until my very end. Yet I look back, and hollow trails follow me, the lonely tread trekked into my soul and I have forgotten the meaning of life. I slowly surrender my humanity to get my hands upon humility . I am deranged, for wishing a dream that no god can imagine nor conjure. I sit and stroke words my mouth failed to share. I wait, every waking moment of my life for a bullet through my chest to put me to my much awaited rest , I hesitate yet go forth into unknown territory knowing full well that I will be eaten alive by unprejudiced predators.

I Loathe You Once In A Blue Moon

     Thankyou for reminding me to never love you anymore. You have show me that you will never be susceptible to change and remain in chains you delude yourself as comfort. You anchor my heart back into my mind and violently plaster why I should never love someone like you once more. My rationality reminded me that you can never be happy with one whose mind seeks to remain stagnant. You will remain the same with the path you chose. You ignored every wisdom that I provided your survival, still you proceed to listen to voices that never once cared for you. You are a memory I will always use to snap me back into reality. I breath out a sigh of relief to know we will never cross paths again. I hope it remains that way.

World's Shame

 Runes with our names inscribed, 

We dive into an idea we loathe,

You swallow the truth through a resisting throat,

And I perform a ruthless quote,

Besides the cold wafting between us,

No mist can make me forget your picturesque smile,

Even if it ventures though rigorous miles,

I will go though torturous terrain and trials,

Times' betrayal calls the emergence of brute stares,

Imposing temptations for blood,

To a tear is time meant for our hearts,

I would learn violence on throttling darts,

With your voice I fall into eternal admire,

A world were you do not exist is a world in abyss,

This humbling winds carry the shallow,

Hallow,

and otherworldly promise.

Another Face of the World

     I found solace in insolence, and treasure in plain sight. When the morning dove took flight, a word was given to the deaf, the deaf that preferred to be blind. The famished are rich while the satisfied sees glory. The birds endure the provoking offer to being themselves thus remain as what the onlookers prefer. The lime will serenade the mints into a change while the illiterate stares at the roots. Sonnets will flourish into the new hymns of a nation desperate for affection and villages will rise into empires of belief. Demise will unfold as the new religion and remove honesty in the cheeks of the innocent. Cauldrons are the doors towards fulfillment and scriptures put children to bed. Noses are the eyes of the jealous while the humble searches for each limb. This is a world similar to mine.

The World has a Tongue

     The greedy will do whatever it takes to keep the crown on their head. The ignorant will keep their eyes in folds, ears in the mud, and mouth in their pockets for the sole sake of being temporarily safe. They will delude themselves in an illusion of security as they slowly crumble along with the brittle walls they have built. The wise will hide as the their necks are on the market for a feast. Shame will become the confidence and lies will become the domineering truth. Havoc will prevail as long as you tolerate the mischief taking place right under your hands. Every living entity will be nothing more than pieces of your game. Life and love will become horror as how justice will become comedy. The hills will crown the new tyrant as how the angels will sing revolts. The weak will vanish into sinful air and the voids we escaped will become the new world.

To Death,

    The living lived lives lasting years enough to unveil the world for what is truly is, the chaos no life deserves. A preserved nightmare that infests dreams of dreams in streams. The Oaks, birches, and maples all agree, this world never needed me. To the privileged, the world is flavored sugar sweet as to the persecuted, stung by salt. Sugar and Salt plays a façade until it touches your tongue. You can sit in the dim as much as you desire, but that will never defeat the truth that you will someday crave for everlasting light. Your eyes will go lengths to deceive you if by means it will keep you away from the danger that lurks. Death should not be feared, may we learn to conquer its heart as we walk to its home, to pass the night. Lives lived was living for death's embrace.