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?

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.

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.

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.

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.