Friday, January 28, 2011

Short, Yet Solid.

i wish
i possess the power to turn every question
that drives you thousand miles away
without having me to mutter any word to answer them.

i wish
i could drown and dissolve in every drop of your tears.
to wash those pains away.
to become a part of your skin,
to cover your feet,
for you to walk along the pebbles of thorns.

i wish.

Saturday, January 22, 2011


welcome to my fort.

a bastion built on a ground hallowed by showers of blood, miseries, and pain.
full of bricks and rubbled walls.

a place that took countless of battles,
witnessed thousands of killings and cuts.
rained by hundreds of catapults.

i can only provide you with minimum safety; wounded men at arms, cavalries and mercenaries.
marksmen at every watchtower.

with short supplies of food and water.

i do not know of how long these walls can last.
nor to guarantee that this citadel will not be taken at any time.

but to the very least,
i will make sure, that

this, place,

is always be the best place for your escape.
the garrison for you to hide.
and i will do whatever it takes, to protect you.

i will keep you safe in here,
in my sanctuary.
my fort.


there are a million ashes
that crash to the sound of a sigh
and a million tears
that sink into deeper, darker places

waiting for shine

there is a place meant
for us
to seal pain away from the world
and attempt to open up pieces of
without feeling the fear of crumbling

because there is no fear
in wishing for a smile

there are a million tender notes
of a familiar tune
and a million shade of light
that can ease through the tangles
of a heavy heart

and bring to it again
a long forgotten shine

a shine meant to live
in a soul like yours


magic is just fantasies for mortals, so they say.

well.. i do not know i do possess the power.
not, until, where i am at a point,
that i have finally witnessed the miracle


so i choose to ignore them. whatever they say.

as i am now,
with a broken wand in my grip,
cracked broken piece of bone.

and with it, i will create you a bolt of light.
tiny, but bright.
filled with colours.
a tiny, bright, colourful light.

to light up your darkened days and tainted soul.

meant to stay,
for million years.


these were the dark ages
of clouds
and tainted skies
that ripped with screams
of lost eyes
and hurt held captive

but there is always a comfort
of trusting
to believe in
a miracle
that will
loosen clenched fists and
internal ache
a miracle that will paint
the skies
beautiful once more
and release all the hope
trapped in.



Sunday, January 2, 2011


I couldn't find any relief,
from plucking any of these rustic strings, with my numb fingers.
Far from playing three or four chords to make me feel all right.

So I set myself off tonight,
Driving through empty lanes, in the darkness.

Looking for a hand to hold.
Looking for an eye to stare for just five seconds.
A scent. A voice.
Looking for the whole picture.
For an answer to my prayer.
For you.

Strangely enough,
As the road resorts me to an empty crossroad,
As if God has answered me, shown in few directions.

For a moment, I came to a sudden realization, that;

Promises are meant to be broken and can never be kept.
Chances are bound to fail in moments of despair.
Battles are meant to be fought, not to run away from it.
And the truths are always hidden under all those bruises, only to be discovered when we dare to scrap them off, leaving the scars behind.

And by the time I had figured it all out,
The sun has risen again,
revealing the path,
of which road should I take.

But I choose to stay.
As I already have all the answers I need.

...are you lost, or incomplete?

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