I am studying literature and just want to read more and learn more.
Stories are to be told Rather than to be pondered. Like a song it should be, My own song That echoes through thousands' consciousnesses..
When was that passion for love rekindled. Lusts burn like a candlestick, Devouring my soul within, Burning my heart within. Love is nothing but a drift In that sea of hormones And I got carried away..
Begone my heart, Unto the dark night sky you go. Find a place among the stars. Have a drink with the Athena. Perhaps the rabbit will go hop dance with you. Perhaps you can grow olive cloves there.
On the way to school, A butterfly I saw in the bus. So desperate to leave for outside, But trapped behind that coach window. It rushed, it hit To the window pane so hard Exhausted it had.
Waking up to the distant light afar, Within the darkness I know not my search are. Now I know sorrow can sediment, Years of grief washed up by that torrent.
It felt like something echoing through the cargo. My fear. When i looked out of the window of the train, homes, green pastures passes behind me, like something as virtual as on a television screen.
Sinking into misery, In that pale white livery, Torn between my own rivalry, Articulate not through literary, Could I ever have the bravery. To ward off such melancholy?.
The night filling with dog howls, The air creeping with foul mist, Recalling on the one I miss, But miss I will she. The farewell was merely through the message, And well she gone like a haze.
I looked myself up in the mirror. Within those hollow eyes, I saw grief and horror. My own world is crumbling. What I trusted most betrayed me. Just a more morose person I have become.
We followed uncle Sam, We forsake our past, We feed onto the 1 %, We drive our humanities away, For what. Just to picture that virtual paradise, When shall we ever wake up.
Like a white swan she excels. Tortured at her own beauty, She dances the ballet of elegies. What will she become of. A diva always strikes in our memories.
Author is dead. Reader is born. What you read isn' t what the writer wrote. What the writer wrote isn't what you perceive..
Romance is a funny thing With joy and sorrow With laughters and tears It is a moonlit on the water Like gems it shines But with hands you can never hold.
I can still remember the day I met you. I could still remember the caress you gave me when I was a child. Night was filled laughters. But weariness came. And took my heart. My way was turned crooked.
Like a vanquished tale of fairy, To know this life is far too dreary. What is real. And what is illusions. Like the foams in the ocean, They came and gone.
Words hung in the air With lies and deceiving tongues. They pierce your heart like a hook, They bewilder your soul like the serpent. Truth dies nowhere but at the lips.
I am striped naked. Feeling ashamed Being so lame Without a string To forge the link. Where is my story. I am just a folly. I am no writer. Still cannot I write, Squeeze I my pen tight.
Like a blade. Rain and wind. Razor through the trees. The smell of grass and leaves. Left me a sense of refreshness. Still to think of the work tomorrow. It will drain my marrow.
Million pieces of glamour faded under the moonlight, Thousands of memories gone like a gust of wind, Both the oppressed and oppressors vanished into the long lost corridor of the past, It is up to me...
Now I can write when I work. A splendid way to piss off my boss..
I have never seen a night so clean as this. Not a single piece of cloud, only the dark bluish sky slightly lit up by the fluorescence of the concrete jungle. The air is cool with occasional breezes.
Million times have I asked Why. Why.
Judy Garland, Irene Dune, Jo Stafford, Dean Martin, Doris Day, all the good old Disney tunes. Every time I hear the magical tunes from the past.
For Levi, he A Jew asked a German officer in a concentration camp. "Why give us hope. Why didn't you strangle us all when we were infants?" "Why do you hope. To desire to live - that I can understand.
My workplace is always full of joy. Just a few days ago one of my colleague and good friend, K, was wearing a t-shirt with a pair of eyes on his chest.