No one knows why I went bad  
When the sun rose, I lost sight of that young brat
As days go by, I'm left with my past
As nights go by, I put on my mask

All I can do is fix the mistakes
Allowing myself to set sail on lakes, first
Letting destiny be my anchor
Its sails are carried by the wind and the water

I may carry on with some abandon
And the victories might come all of a sudden
Yet, the losses do not bother me anyway
I know I am destined to win, today

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken






              ©words of a withering soul

her soul burnt, charred pieces fell apart,
the flames of the cruel fire seared into her heart,
and what was it made of?
Only what people made of it, as a heartless soul
but she only knew of love and that's all she wanted
until they killed her soul
and buried her ashes.

grown into flowers,
her ashes cried every morning,
they hurt her terribly
but nature has it's consequences