Love has no meaning but a lota definitions
Some give opinions, some share qoutations
Reality has a boundary, love no limitations
You can accept the situations
Uncertain destinations

And love?
Deny the hesitations?
Change the animation?
Design the words and release the expressions

You?
I run into the lose of words
But keeps reminding of the bird
The sky is the impression
The unsung illusion

Me?
If you rule as the Queen of my world of poetry
Then why wouldn’t I love you
If you make me smile for a minute
Then why wouldn’t I love you

If you leave one day but still stay in my heart
Why wouldn’t I love you
I may not be able to be with you, I know that
But why wouldn’t I love you

Its okay. Right?


Love speaks to reality.

I could just deny the spoken words
But how do I deny what I see
Look how far the sky has touched you
The scars seem perfect to me

The definition of beauty might be the reflection and the refraction and summation of the eyes and the brain
The connection is surely the attraction on the actions making me insane

The actions of the tone of your skin
The biting of the lips squeezing them thin
The vulnerable heart out in the open to win
It is broken and pinned

Having all of it but I shall pretend
That there are no curtains, no end
To this play, to this epic, to this volume, to this ballad

I wish the words beg to be arranged infinitely, just to be you
Sit around every corner of the curves and the brinks of your body
And still feel strange

I asked my friend to fire in the dark
But there is the moon for the spark
He says he needs to get home to listen to the howling
The one's that of agony, or fouling

This moon, constructed too many words to be poems
That many slipped into fear and omens

Ever thought of?

The face of a woman
Beauty of the blackness
And evil for the plot at night
The howl of declaration that

I am the moon
For everyone and everything

Who runs the show
To create a mess
In the game of chess
Smart to know
The next move, a guess
Of the guest
Aiming at the chest
Scatter by flattering
Clattering of the best

The enemy is in the nest
Feeding the allies
with lies and pride
Demanding a crest
For the services
Vest for the bullet
But aimed at the head
All is at war
But still goes to bed

Waiting for my turn to turn up
Everyone ahead of me must hurry up
Everyone behind, do I really care?

I follow myself to the pond of sweetness
To harness some in my pocket
To give away when I have to
Also when I Don't want to
I see sweetness in colors
The colors that define which one I give away.
I let one have a cheap one
Or the purest to say.

There are others at the pond too
With a bucket or two
And that shall affirm that I shall have a bite from it too.
A purest or the cheap
But there is sweetness everywhere
In kindness and in evil.