Friday, June 12, 2009

Key to my Heart

Here's the key
To open up this precious treasure
that which I've long hidden
for fear that it may be taken away
or hurt beyond repair.
I entrust it to you,
because I believe
that you will keep it safe
and guard it with your own life.
For you,
this key is as important as your own being
and thus,
I can hand it to you without regret.
Take it and keep it close to your own,
because I want you to know
that a part of it
comes from a part of you.
Have it,
guard it,
love it.
That which is most precious to me,
the key to my heart.

-
The heart of a person is not something that can be easily possessed. It's like a treasure hidden away, locked away from prying eyes and possessive people who dare to abuse it. And the key to this most precious treasure, is something that is difficult to give, but once given cannot easily be taken back.

Rain

Wash the pain away
soak me to the bone
and chill me to death.
All the pain and hardships
just let it flow away from me.
Watch it go down the drain,
or trickle down the skin
sweat away from within me
and disappear before my eyes.
Let it keep on going.
Never-ending,
with the sky covered in grey streaks
amongst dark clouds.
Similar to tears,
with the heavens crying out
and singing sad songs.
The monotonous dripping sound,
of millions of tears falling
to the painful Earth.
Little droplets,
one by one
or by the dozen.
Come down
and wash everything away
till nothing is left.
-
The rain is like a continuous monotonous lullaby that can lull one to sleep, as if to a dream world where one can experience no pain or suffering. The rain always seems like a sad ending, but also a new beginning as well.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

I

I've given up on a hopeless fallacy
that seems to circle about
as if the world was never-ending
and as if love had no doubt.
I've lost myself to desire and dreams
that have captured my heart and soul,
that which has enraptured me
and has me under its control.
I've said good-bye to a love lost
which answers not questions asked
and in it carrying endless words
shows the heart's love cannot last.
I've waved farewell to unrequited love,
and thus search for a future abound,
asking not much but to be loved
no need for flattery or promises profound.

-
Everyone wants their fairytale prince, or their fairytale princess. But deep down, isn't what we're all searching for but a simple love? That of someone who loves us simply, without prejudice or pretentious promises, is that not something that all of us can have?

Would you love me then?

Would you love me if I was the only one
left to wander this god-forsaken Earth?
If everyone turned you down
and you came to realize this person
who's kept silent as she waited for you?
When the world spun backwards
and in it, you found me first among the rest?
What would happen if I had not been too kind
or were different from you,
would you have seen me as more of a girl
than just a friend?
Say I were a bit more shy,
and not as noisy as I am now,
would you have taken notice of me
and become curious of that girl in the corner?
Think if I was more conscious of how I looked
then how I acted or what I said,
you'd see me differently somehow?
Would you love me if I wasn't the one standing here
but that girl that you just can't forget?

-
Why do people love what they cannot have, and want what they cannot reach? And why is it that we try to be someone we're not for someone we love, in the hopes that they would like us in return. Oh what a drama this thing called love is.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Thanking True Love

If not for lovers met and bred
then by all means, I should be dead
for who can stop a beating heart
since no true love can truly part
and if by this I tell a lie,
kill me thus and let me die
for without two people in this world
then all humanities fate unfurl.
We will all then crash without compare
if true love is lost and all dreams despair.

-
The most wonderful miracle of all is borne from pain, endurance, and always with a certain amount of love..it is without a doubt the miracle of life. It is the miracle of life that remains continuous in our ever-changing world. It is what keeps us, alive. Even if life is born through inevitable and sometimes irrevocable events and situations, the true love that exists either between the mother and father, the parents and their child, or even with just the mother and the unborn child, allows for the miracle to come into the world. Without this true love, this familial love, one cannot expect a miracle to arrive.

Star Night, Star Light

Once upon a time,
a star fell from the sky.
It fell to the earth,
and was left to die.
But one little girl,
who watched the sky each night
saw the little star fall
and ran to the site.
She moved through the woods
and cared not for her dress,
for only one thing mattered,
and she cared for nothing less.
As she ran through the trees
she soon lost sight of the star
for it had fallen too quickly,
and had fallen too far.
But on she did trudge,
through the muck and the grime,
with her bare feet all dirty
and herself out of time.
She quickened her steps,
and to herself did she pray,
that she'd find that star quickly
before the start of that day.
Soon she heard a rustle,
a movement in the grass,
as if something was struggling
but it could not move, alas.
The little girl had found the star,
it was stuck on a bush.
Landing quickly it had sunk,
as if something gave it a push.
She ran to it as fast
as her little feet would,
she hurriedly grabbed the star,
and held it at tight as she could.
The star felt cold
as she held it in her arms,
with its color fading,
she tried to keep it warm.
Back to her house she ran
afraid for the light of day,
she would soon be found missing
and thus ran back without delay.
She also feared for her friend,
whom she cradled in her grasp
a mere baby it had seemed
had fallen from the sky at last.
As soon as she had returned
to her room she did run.
Hiding herself from all,
and her friend from the sun.
The little girl jumped unto her bed,
her hand on her friend
and quickly wrapped themselves tight
feigning sleep, to pretend.
As soon as she closed her eyes,
she did fall asleep,
and some sounds outside the door,
opened the door and gave a peep.
The little girl was sleeping,
quietly and peacefully it seemed.
While a small little light
from the bed side, did gleam.
A small little night light
shone bright into the night.
Keeping monsters away,
and scary things from her sight.
A small little thing it was,
as can be seen from afar,
a shining bright little night light
in the shape of a baby star.

-
Once, I wanted to write children's novels, or write series' like Sweet Valley or even Harry Potter. Once, I imagined so many stories and dreamed of far away things that people could not even begin to imagine. That was once. Like a star, I feel that it has now fallen from the sky, it is no longer something I feel I can do. Yet deep down, it will remain forever a part of me.

Story of a Leaf

The leaf that tumbled in the wind
knew not where its destiny lay,
for in its past a dream arose
one bright and sunny day.

When spring had just awoken
and the leaves were alive with dew,
a tree stretched out its arms
and said hello to the season anew.

As the leaves sprouted forth
and grew slowly as each day passed,
one little leaf watched the passing folk
as they walked briskly past.

It watched as their legs took them
to places it never could
and wished, oh wished that one day soon
it could escape from its neck of the wood.

Swaying ever so slowly,
the wind let it move at its pace
and gave the leaf a little hope
as it swayed on for countless days.

And when the leaf dreamt no longer
and slowly lost its faith,
one day the wind grew stronger
and from the tree, swept it away.

And so the leaf had finally
said goodbye to its home the tree,
letting the wind blow it slowly
it felt happy, excited and free.

For days on end it traveled far,
saw many people on the streets,
it traveled where the wind took it
and didn't choose who it had to meet.

It told itself how lucky
its life had been so far,
how it escaped the tired fate
of simply watching from afar.

So days had passed and it went on
following the pace of the wind,
one day it soon grew weary,
losing its shimmer from within.

Without the tree it had no way
to get its green color back,
it soon lost strength and quietly hoped
it wouldn't fade to black.

Sadly one day the wind grew strong
and pushed the leaf somewhere,
at first it saw the light of day,
then soon it couldn't feel the air.

The leaf found out it had fallen
to a sewer down below,
without the people, the air, the tree,
it felt there was nowhere else it could go.

It tried to cry but couldn't
as it lay there in the dark,
it tried to remember the good old days
when it still lived in the park.

Soon the leaf already felt and knew
he was slowly dying away,
away from home and family,
and away from the light of day.

"So goodbye leaf, goodbye"
it quietly said to itself,
and it crumpled away to dust
with nothing more left.

-
It is in our nature to yearn for what we cannot have, and to always dream or wonder about a life different from our own. Sadly though, it may sometimes happen that the life we wish for, or the things we wish for, are not what they seem. Inevitably, we sometimes find ourselves in a situation far worse than our original situation. In spite of this, for many people, curiosity is a never-ending cycle.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

River Styxta

Inside the depths of my very soul,
there lay tears as deep as the river Styx
that leads into my heart, black and painful as Hell.
I've cried too long for you
and there in the river, swim all my dreams and goals
moving farther from me as painful memories
that I push into the bottom of my broken heart.
There is no return for all those that have floated past
and it sucks more into it like an endless black hole,
from which I've lost myself.
Only a Hades, a reflection of a pitiful me,
guards over the darker side of me,
eating me up more and more each day.
And it seems more like I'm a frustrated Persephone
who seems to sink into darkness more
than she basks in the sunlight.
Just like my soul has been sucked into hell
swimming endlessly for eternity,
the tears that have come from my heart
seem unending in this pitiful fate.

-
Tis the river of sadness and pain, and regret which flows inside of me. That which flows in and out of my heart and soul.

Greatest Love

Sometimes,
the greatest love
is that which watches from afar.
To know that they're happy
even if it's not with you.
To know they're smiling,
even if it's not because of your presence.
To know they're laughing,
even if it's not your joke.
The greatest love keeps silent
and keeps smiling despite the pain
that they're loved one
might unknowingly or knowingly
bring.
Because the greatest love
is not of one's selfishness
but being selfless for the one
that you love most dearly.

-
It is the truth, that the greatest love is sometimes the most painful of all. Jesus loved us so much that He died for the salvation of the world. As people, we encounter the same thing. Sometimes, the greatest love of all is the selfless love that seeks nothing in return.

Tears of an Angel

Drops are pouring outside,
slow at first like water droplets
before pouring in the form
of a million tears.
Thousands of angels crying out
in painful remembrance
of the hardships of the world.
Endless sounds of pitter-patter on the ground
with the dark sky engulfing every ray of light.
Eternal till nothing is left to cry for,
and it passes as the world forgets
and starts anew.

-
When it rains, it's as if the angels are crying for us. Crying for our pains and sufferings, our joys and our dreams. Mostly, they cry because they hear our souls crying out, longing to shed what we sometimes refuse to make known. Because our souls, and angels, know what we refuse to know.

Unslumbered

Oh cruel is the waking morn
whose appearance looms just beyond
and in whose rising one remembers
the cruelty of a night filled
with tossing and turning
Oh woe the bright sun
whose rays shine behind the clouds
good-bye to the moon's white glow
and a promise of endless dreams
as limitless as the star-filled sky
Oh detest the crowing rooster
whose sounds awaken to a new day
his greeting to the dawn is another farewell
to the silent night where everyone but one
slumbers

-
Oh, it is cruel indeed to have to face the morning everyday, without sleep. Sleepless nights, dreamless dreams.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Plea to a foolish heart

Oh foolish heart of mine,
I would like to tear you out of me.
Relieve me of the pain you bring,
and stop, stop falling.
I beg of you,
grant me this one wish
so that I may live,
not for the sake of my love for others
but for my own sake.
Stop this foolish nonsense
of giving yourself completely,
only to be torn into shreds
like blood,
red tears falling from within.
Don't blind yourself with idealistic dreams
that won't ever come true.
Forget promises
that seem to good to be true
and open your eyes to reality.
I beg of you,
grant me this one wish
so that I may live,
without the hurt
without the pain
without the suffering
without a worthless love.
Leave behind
hopeless fantasies
and move on dear heart.
To a future,
empty of the feeling
empty of the emotion
empty of the past
filled with memories of love.
I beg of you,
just stop falling
and filling me with nothing
but unreciprocated fallacies.
That's all I ask, so please.

-
Foolishness, naivete, it keeps us in a cycle of never-ending pain. Sometimes, no matter how much pain we endure, we are constantly in a state of relieving mistakes and bringing back painful memories.

Eyes of an Innocent

Unaware of what lies ahead,
we choose what we perceive
to be the better of both worlds.
As compared to adulthood,
children have the unfair advantage...
or so they claim.
And thus we reach into the unknown,
the world of reality,
of independence,
of responsibility,
of pressure,
of failure.
Never to return to ignorant lives.
No longer
the eyes of an innocent.

-
Not even children are innocent in this world which is full of sins and mistakes.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Ignorance is Bliss

Remind me not of problems dawning
but leave me in the dust,
where lay forgotten pain and suffering
in friendship's precious trust.
For in knowing one remembers
that which seems to lie ahead,
thus say not a word for if perturbed
I may soon find myself as good as dead.
And thus is silence a sweet sound
of ignorance long fathomed,
where no words are said, for in dread
they now lay abandoned.

-
Ignore everything, and everyone. Do not seek for the truth for the truth, though it sets one free, is very painful.

Keep a Secret

Can you keep a secret
and tell not a soul,
can I tell you something
and tell no one I told?
Can you keep silent
and smile as if you know nothing,
can you look a person in the eye
and not end up laughing?
Can you go about normally
as if you weren't hiding a fact,
can you meet many people
without being a sneaky old rat?
Can you zipper your mouth close
and not give up when you're in a pickle
can you remain true and promise
to be who you are, simple?
Can you hear what I have to say
and have it go back out the other,
can you forget what I told you once
and not repeat it any further?
Can you keep my secret
and store it in your mind,
throw away the key
so it won't be easy to find?

-
Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a finger in my eye.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Man and Woman

To find one who truly means the world
and understands with a loving heart
is something that one wishes for
in finding the body and soul's other part.
A man who above all gives of himself
as he pledges to love his wife dearly
and in vowing in front of God and friends
sees in a new light completely.
He who makes her laugh and smile
and without contempt sacrifices
to make her the happiest bride on Earth
through all pains and strife.
And she a woman long sought a man
and on Earth has found her partner,
wishes only but happiness for them both
bearing his sons and daughters.
She who bears his children in name
and goes about a wife and mother,
gives all her family her own love
as blessings and gifts to God the Father.
And thus it all but begins with a wedding
in a fairytale never ending,
as both people go on their merry way
their blessings and wishes, in God thus I pray.


-
Oh how lovely the sound of a perfect happy ending and marriage. What is perfection but a simple dream and wish. What is a happy ending but our own personal choice.

Abandoned

Out of place and out of time.
Underappreciated among the crowd,
that which once was treasured
has now become a part of the past.
And they have long gone
and left her behind,
unconsciously leaving her out of everything
while she remains standing still.
Looking at the people she holds so dear
the footsteps and distance keeping them apart
and the emptiness, with the feeling of abandonment.

-
Alienated. Abandoned, like an old rag doll or a fading fashion trend.

Where art my love?

Such a story is a paramour of my dreams,
and will true love be never mine to hold.
Shall it remain forever a dream
or shall I see it opened before me
like a chest of gold yearned by all
and simply mine.
For I desire my own true love,
not that of others who hath their own wishes
because I, selfish thus
for that which is rightfully mine -
my own deserving true happiness.
I neither wish to take which isn't mine
but to find what was fated to be
meant only for me.
Can I seek to find only my own true love?
Finding not those whose hearts I may break
or to find those who might break mine own.
For there may only be me
and there shalt just be him.
Him whom I desire most of all
above everyone else, him, who is love,
the embodiment of my heart and
the yearning of my soul.
Where art thou?

-
Shakespeare-in-love-inspired . A different style of writing from 18th Century literature.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Essence

So...
when the world stops crying
for my lost and tortured soul;
Will you keep hugging me close
and never let me go.
Will you, like all others,
abandon me to the darkness
that engulfs me slowly.
There remains a small
but faint beating
that waits to be called.
Keep a light shining through
for me,
and always keep me in your thoughts.
Don't lose hope
and keep me steadily walking back
to where I once was.
Just stay there,
and be who you've always been for I
am a broken soul
waiting for her pure heart.

-
Countless yearnings and desires.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Where red flowers bloom

Red flowers bloom
Where blood runs dry
In a place,
where souls do not rest
And tormented cries
Fill the dark night.
Velvet petals sway
In the Wind
But soon, to my touch
They wilt and disintegrate
Gone,
Leaving nothing but
Silent tears behind.

-
Red leaves bloom here, in a place where it should not exist. It reminds me of shed tears and dying men, of sadness and regret. Here, where those red leaves do not belong. In this world, where sadness is not welcome, it stays.

Lifeless

Suffocating,
breathing without breathing
and living without living.
Moving as if each day
were the same as the day before
and as if everything was a blur.
Nothing exemplary, nothing out of place.
Everything the same
and unchanging.
No uniqueness, nor individuality.
One of many, many of one.
Just one, and nothing more.

-
When nothing is different from the past nor the future, what do we strive for? Yearn for? Hope for?

Won't you darling?

When barriers break
and hearts don't ache,
wake me, won't you darling?

When pigs do fly
and lovers don't lie,
call me, won't you darling?

When the sun grows cold
and our nights together old,
hold me, won't you darling?

When true love is untrue
and I've finally lost you,
kill me, won't you darling?

-
The poem is suppose to seem very idealistic, contrasting, and in a way sarcastic. It focuses a lot on wishing for the impossible things that is reality. And in the end, when that idealism cannot be attained, what is there to live for.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Death and Dreams

I dream, a dream of deaths. As if my fate calls me to die. Dreams are suppose to give a person happy thoughts and take them to a place only they can go to when away from reality. But it seems that even in dreams, death calls me to be its constant companion. How long do I have to remain in this rut to dreams? Won't the Sand Man have mercy and let me dream wonderful dreams, during the only time I have left for myself?

It's not as if I ask for much anyway. All I want is the chance to dream away my problems. It's as if I dream a thousand deaths, as if I die a thousand deaths. No. I die and die, again and again.


And now, I am off. To dream again, and to die again.

-
Dreams of death and of dying are a common occurrence in my world.

Season of Forgiveness

And when the last snow falls to the ground
with nothing but a distinct sound,
does that mean that snow falls no more
and will our fate be ever more sure.
If the season brings about good cheer,
for me it brings us every near
to a decision that I alone must make
and a new road I alone must take.
And on this road I tread steadily on,
supposedly with my regret long gone
and with our past simply a mere memory,
all your faults but part of a sad romantic story.
Yet human is me,
and woe my humanity
for thinking that it is too hard to forget
not long ago we were like a set.
A pair of two, a pair of doves,
a pair of friends or a pair in love,
a pair of two hurt hearts who needed mending,
or a pair of friends who were just pretending.
Still a set, now no longer does it exist,
and in its wake it has created a rift.
So the season brought it to an end
supposedly it was time to mend,
to forgive and move on as if it were a dream
and I was made to awake it seems.
And so the past has faded into nothing
with our mistakes but a sheer passing
and with the new year just around the corner,
it seems as if I hate you no longer.
Even if forgiveness be part of the season,
it still does not give you a reason,
to forget everything that was or is,
because I for one shall not savor in the bliss
of ignorance.

-
For amid the Christmas season, our conscience takes the better of us and makes us do the unexpected.

Of pity and presumptions

If you think that a thousand apologies could mend the broken heart, then you are mistaken. If you believe that a hundred gifts could make me forget your errors sir, then I pray sir that the lord bless your corrupted soul. For if you believe that for every mistake done upon me or any other for that matter, that a few words or deeds or material possessions could remedy every little mistake, then I hope that you may do no more harm or commit no more problems. Alas, such is your position that you are, in my good opinion, unable to do such a thing, and that somewhere along the way, you will in your supposedly good judgment again bring harm to an innocent person. I should thus pity you now, and not linger in an inevitable future. Your future thus, has already been determined.

-
Attempts at writing the thoughts of a young girl living in the 19th Century. Inspiration care of Jane Austen's novels.