You Are Not Alone

ImageThere are things in this universe
that will forever be questioning me
An example is when I see your face
which makes me want to sing with glee
But you can never listen
to the voices inside my head
Things unheard, words left unsaid

Everyday as I lie awake in my bed
Thoughts of you weigh more
than hundreds of lead
My life is titanium
but without you it’s krypton
Our fate is sealed
on an endless hexagon

Love, your feelings
are labyrinths of unfinished symphony
Your emotions are sealed
in a series of cryptology
Maybe someday we’ll have
a total eclipse of the heart
It doesn’t matter if we’d had
a bad start

Destiny is filled with games
and funny twists
Our future lies beyond those mass
of cloudy mists
If you look at the stars
and you feel lonely and unknown
Think of me on those moments…
you are not alone

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I Write Because…

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I write because I have these ideas being piled up in my head
I write because I want to share my thoughts, or later they’ll be dead
I write because I have no one to talk to most of the day
I write because I don’t want to forget about yesterday
I write because I want someone to understand me
I write because I want them to be understood by me
I write because when I open my mouth, the words come out wrong
I write because no one can listen to me for far too long
I write to enhance my vocabulary
I write to inspire and satisfy nobody
I write because I am scared of speaking to anyone
I write because it is a right– a form of freedom
I write because when someday I die
I write because I want them to remember me by.

The Perfect Definition Of Books

ImageInstruments that record, analyse, summarise, organise, debate and explain information;

that are illustrated, non-illustrated, hardbound, paperback, jacketed, non-jacketed;

with foreword, introduction, table of contents, index;

that are intended for the enlightenment, understanding, enrichment,

enhancement and education of the human brain through sensory route of vision –

sometimes touch.

-Phunsukh Wangdu aka Ranchoddas Shamaldas Chanchad (Three Idiots~Movie)

Angels To Fly… Angels To Die (Pen Relief)

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Beneath the crescendo drizzle is where she stood.

Waiting. Listening. Humming.Whispering.

As she extend her arm to touch the dark sky, a roar of music echoes

and reverberates in the air.

The sound of nostalgia blurred by the rain.

Her gentle eyes began to open. An expression of sadness

burdened by the world’s deafening noises.

Slowly, she drifted into the air and leaped across the empty space.

Defying all the laws of physics, an angel dares to fly.

But we’re not angels and we can’t have wings, not until we die.

 

Written: November 2013 as a Pen Relief