The splices of life, cabled webbing -
Had you everything you ever reasonably need,
And before you the ability to facilitate
The creation of artificial imitation
Near indistinguishable from reality,
Would you venture outside the confines
From control to chaos, and knowledge to mystery?
Or would you just enjoy plastic scenery?

You were enchanted by the mystery,
You thought it was love and pursued me.
Been excited to discover every part of me.
Touched me like a book, what an interesting story it could be.

I am just ordinary,
people might see me as an old book that could not be understood easily.
I am just nobody,
but you brought me up to life where my existence has been saved from a tragedy.

You have stolen my heart that made my feelings to ramble.
'T was confusing...
and for a moment, I never thought that this will cause me to slumber.
'T was frightening...
A nightmare when we became lovers.

We both made this story, a fairytale.
In the end, it's ourselves that we fail.
Fantasizing each word, trying to mend the aching wounds.
It's not the sword that cuts, but the lies that's ripping us 'till we hear the rhythm of the heart that pounds.

I have never lived my life through your expectations.
Still, we tried to chase everybody at their romantic phase,
while being deceived by our own illusions
As I turned the page, showing fears that I couldn't face.

I laughed when you told me that, alone, I can write it beautifully.
like the songs with a perfect melody.
You think that tearing me apart could turn into a perfect art,
Leaving me afraid and lonely.

I was left there, hanging.
In every page, horrible scenarios are ranging
I was left there hoping,
Just in case there still be a happy ending.

God greatly desires

peace, man gives him more and more --


to ponder about.

Don't look at gray clouds for answers
Dull, blurry, nondescript
They cloud the mind
With mystery and uncertainty
Here today but gone tomorrow
Like a dream lover

Life is in the here and now, the present,
Death is in the past and future; regret and needs to be met.
But talking about dying, pain, angst, the last breath brings life;
Mysterious peace settles, an absence of strife.

We may think we’re alone in death,
But we all go through it, crossing that precipice.
Something we all have in common,
Not just for one but for everyone.

Sharing stories becomes living memories,
Remembered in death, then as homilies.
Celebrating life: a life well lived,
Then, death is seen as not taken but given.

Is there love in a coffeehouse?
Like those silly Hallmark movies?
Coffee is love
But hides in mystery
In laptops and cell phones
In wandering eyes
And ****** musings
In the buzzing sounds of a lovely brew
To be consumed by you

Thankful for you
More than you know
The telepathy runs deep
It's certainly a mystery
Never to be understood
Just let it be