Chains Of RealityDon’t you wish to just rewind the pastAnd live a life from the start at last?Wishes like that never come trueAnd there is nothing you can do. You do not understand how the World looks.You try to comprehend it through books,Though reality sometimes is not what you desireAnd you become the greatest liar! You break chains with your pen,And get out of the darkest den,You discover a brand new place,Where happiness and peace will us embrace. Alas, it is all a dream, you are still trapped,In cold metal you are wrapped.You cannot face it, it is too sad,And if you do, it will drive you mad.
Identity CrisisMy writings are scattered all over the place,They cannot regain their former grace.What happened to me? Did I lose my belief?I am I already an autumn leaf?Where is my muse? I need to find her!Without this girl I cannot be a poet or a writer.Who will I become then? I do not know!Maybe the death wind away will me blow! Once more I experience the identity crisis,No one knows when it disappears or rises,I try to find a new path by following the old,Am I in search of love and in search of gold. What is my aim now, since she is no more?Thoughts made my mind a field of war:Like foreign bombs questions fallAnd answers break my mind's wall!
Life and Grass in A StreamAs I sat before the searing desert wastesBeside the celestial flow of Adam's AleDid I suddenly come to this sensational realization with gripping haste:Mortal life is like grass floating in a stream at great pace!A blade rises from the reaches of the EarthAs does a child birth forth from the womb,Growing taller and stronger as time passes by.As the infant blade beholds the stream,We children behold the world with helpless incomprehension;Struggling to make sense of it all.Then suddenly with the eastern dawning of one sunIs everything we know no more,The time of comfort and blissful ignorance undone.As is the blade thrust into t
Media naranjaA veces piensoen pequeñas escenas cotidianascomo verte salir por la puertao cómo tus labios se acercan a los míos.Son sólo pensamientos,pero me alegran el díasólo porque estás en elloso porque existes, no importa que no aparezcas.Y aquí sentado te miro y sientoque no nos hace falta hablar para entendernosambos sabemos que el otro piensa "¡Que hambre!"y que hasta ahora esto era romántico.Pero las cosas cambian,sólo con que uno de los dos lo decida;a pesar de todo, el romanticismo sigue latente en los pequeños detallescomo cada uno de los trazos de
Bound ones heart.Bound ones heart. Hope rays like sun rise in the morning as I step into my reality yet again.A wondering feeling breaks into my peace and I find myself seeking answers.Morning is so pleasant and free. There is yet to be an issue beside the physical.But mind and heart slip into consciousness one after another, reminding me of trial.I stand and reach fluently for answers in my own way. Thoughts seem to race.Sufferings bondage holding me, and the keys to said chains hidden from site.Guiding whispers through transcendental light pass through the veil, a helpful hand.Overwhelming loving kindness fulfilling my need for more within, so ea
Estupefacientes a mitad de precioConsoladoresde esperanza esparcidos en el mercadoesperando encontrar a un dueño afortunado;Descripcionesde ideales con un delicioso gran futurodeseando moldear la vida de algún mendrugo;Pero ¿qué esperas conseguir?¿qué esperas obtener?la felicidad eterna aún no se ha inventado.Existen las preguntas y no las respuestas,pero siempre es más fácil ignorar esta evidencia:¡Tranquilos! Esas preguntas no son adecuadas.¡Calmaos! Vuestras dudas no están bien enfocadas.Sandeces,incoherenciasy un mar de crédulos amantes de la mala ciencia.Ahora venid todos aquíque con este postuladovoy a proporcionaros el mejor calmanteque jamás se
Flesh and BoneFlesh and BoneWhile my walks a little jaggedAnd my legs, not so stead fastI am thankful that I'm breathingAnd hope that it shall lastI would pace the ward if I couldMy legs, stiff, incompetentIf I could change myself, I wouldTo do away with the malcontentI wish only for one thingA simple request, It's trueRespect and enjoy the days you can live inBefore they are taken away from you.
L'ESPOIRL'ESPOIRL'espoir c'est le grand soir et les matins qui chantentC'est l'esprit libéré des rêves qui le hantentL'oisillon dans son nid attendant la becquéeChacun y a sa place, ni dernier ni premier.La venue d'un enfant à la femme infertileTout le peuple d’Égypte guettant la crue du Nil.C'est voir que la Nature de nous tous est la mèreL'espoir c'est aujourd'hui le paradis sur terreL'espoir c'est le soir, c'est aussi le matinJe vais y arriver, aujourd'hui ou demainLe rêve d'une vie enfin réalisé.Instant après instant, des perles alignéesC'est
Punk Isn't DeadPunk isn't dead.It wears a shirt and tie.It settled down and had children.It started obsessing about its 'career'.It cut all its old friends out of its life - the family comes first, you understand.It doesn't want to change the world anymore.It doesn't want to sing or dance.It doesn't want to cause a fuss, what would the neighbours think?It doesn't want to formulate new ideas - it has to live in 'the real world' and thinks you should too.It doesn't like looking in the mirror, these days.It hopes its children will follow their dreams.It hopes its children will be what they couldn't.It is telling its children to 'get a job'.It is t
Final Project- EmbersKindling, the start of life and fire all the sameAnd without a single starting point all fires lose their flamesAs such with life when babies rear their heads and limbs quite lameAnd preparing for such spark of life, it all starts outs so tame.The sticks and twigs and underbrush I collected and prepared,And worried about every piece, to see if it was fair,And when I placed the brush and leaves I made sure to take care,And finally I lit a match to start this blazing flare.My blaze takes breath, inhales the airHis heart now starts to beatIt’s slow at first, yet as I stareI begin to feel some heatHe’s grown a bit, not
What I ThinkWhat I ThinkI think that the world would be pretty lameIf everyone in it was exactly the same
gAmes we plAyRich girls stealPretty girls lieSmart girls play dumband dumb girls try to be all of the above.Roses are redviolets are blueI am in your headand this is my gift to you.I play many gamesthat's what girls do.I play the ones for the insanebecause fantasy is true.I play with your mindI play with your heartI play with your lifeI play with my dart.Challenge me It's a daretough or smartI don't careIf it's fate that favors me then luck has nothing on meif it's work that does me wellthen everything else goes to hell.
Regretscapture and killor lock awayprey for betterbut either wayI'm hungry forthe taste of whateverwrapped round my shouldersin pleasured tremorsmuscles failingwith every moveI say "I love you"but what's it prove?whatever's leftis turned arounda stain in my memoryand a gasping sound