Winter ( And another one with a different style this time )

 On the shore, at a point so close to the ocean.

Watching blankly as the waves broke.

Petals of sweet blossoms rained down, gracefully painting the seas to its color.

Looking at towers of black coal wood.

Decorating the streets with their moist brown leaves.

Through all this beautiful sight, soon comes winter.

How I savored all what is in this thing we call living.

How I wished that the threes offers its blossoms.

Let it offer for eternity and never ending.

More than thousands presented itself each day, as if it won't lose its buds.

As time never stood still, it within a flash died down.

Fascinating truly how a slight change could effect something, creating such a drastic turn.

However, I thank you sincerly, for the story I took just from this.

As the next spring comes, as the next winter comes, I would perhaps take a warm jacket along.

Menutup mata (( Indonesian poememememe))

 Apakh mereka lupa bahwa kau tak buta?

Apakah kau sudah lupa, bahwa jantungmu berdetak karena dan untuk dirimu?

Sayap putih, lembut di setiap bulunya.

Matahari kembali bersembunyi, satu persatu dari bayangan itu bangun, mencabik daging dan kulit, tapi kau masih ragu?

Langkah demi langkah yang kau ambil.

Menarilah seperti pelawak! Topeng itu sudah tak berguna dan labil!

Tutuplah matamu, hai malaikat!

Tangis dera mereka tertera jelas bagaikan sebuah plakat.

Kaca terletak dihadapan mereka, tapi yang mereka lihat adlah orang lain.

Kaca terletak dihadapanmu, tapi kau tak melihat seorangpun.

Apakah mereka lupa bahwa kau juga manusia?

Apakah kau sudah lupa, bahwa kau tidak bisa terbang dengan sayapmu yang terkekang?

Sayap putih tak ada lagi, sekarang sudah tercabik-cabik.

Terkutuklah kau yang menangis! Air mata sudah tak berarti lagi sekarang.

The worthless doll (( Not my best honestly ))

 Dance! Dance! Dance to the beat, to the music.

Play, throw, and use it.

Not to your liking I see, why don't you cut and mold it the way you like!

Take care, preapre, or perhaps break its pych!

Everyone would see it beautifully to perfection.

Beckon each and every move, every one of its desicion.

Stiched button eyes, it must be incredibly wonderful to have such gaze.

The people that witnessed it are stuck, lost in a daze.

It's all burned out now, all set up, all ready to be thrown away.

Heartless souls shall be overjoyed, for they shall laugh, drink and sway!

"A worth for nothing puppet is what that doll is! "

How can they be so blind? How can they not see your neverending tears?

Dance! Dance! Dance to the beat, keep going for the music have not stop!

Play, throw, and use it. End it yourself or wait until they throw you away!

A waltz with the dead. ((Another poemememem))

 The people sings! What a euphonic march!

How this castle says my name like an elegy.

Sweet taste of wine, still lingers on my tounge.

The feel of apricity on the skin, how so comforting.

Skeletons and ghouls, came rising from the earth.

They greet me, invited to join their waltz.

A step and another, echoed through the walls in rythyms.

Heels tapped gracefully, fabric thrown in the air then pulled back.

Rapid knocks on the coffin door.

How very tired I am of funerals.

Day by day, each second and each piece are just another of sorrow.

Cold water seeped through the rough holes of what are my bones.

What beauty! What honor! Thy tounge, how astute.

All so soraphic, pretty lies, ugly truth.

Rapid knocks on my coffin door.

How very tired I am of funerals.

Avalee! ( Another poem :) )

 Her soft angelic wings shall spread as she sings the notes of heaven.

Let the crowd cheer and clap, for their senses hath deaden.

Avalee! How thy shine blinds, how thy voice deafen!

They all shall follow and serve as thee beckon!

How thou share all thy sob tales!

All those mesmerizing words that spread which sound alyauntes!

Oh, Avalee!

The people solace and gaze at thee with glee!

In truth the devil has never been a man of red.

Fallen souls, let them scream as thee pull the thread.

OhM Avalee!

In truth, the devil is on with a golden case, when is the time for them to see?

Reality, thou are one to stick needles to the heart.

Avalee, thou are on to pierce with glass shards.

Thy tounge, oh, how intoxicating.

And how all I am to do is stay in silence, waiting.

In truth, shall thou be punihed as heavy as thy sins.

An old tale remains unforgotten. ( Another poem)

 Gliding through the sand, slowly loosing foothold.

I smiled, however thee respond not, the wish of thy gaze, the memory and story of gold.

How the sight of mine blurred, no longer have I hold the ability to keep thee close.

Nothing in act I could change, that was what thee chose.

Nothing within my grasp nor what was my sanity was to stop her.

The image of her soft gaze came passing by, as she played the game of wonder.

Ocean blue silk, gently cling onto her figure.

Cruel truly! How ye could have been though of slight, kinder!

Devild in its ugliest ye are!

Broken is what her heart, her thoughts constantly at war.

Hast thou no tears? Let them weep now or never more!

Bolladonna! Oh dear sweet blossom!

Ah! Thou I adored so, within my hands thee wilt.

True I loved you... True I did.

Do not wake me again! ( A poem written by me ofc)

Wretched souls! Within the flames of hell ye all shall burn!

As the bells toll, judgement greet upon ye.

Life fell feeble, but thee is it not.

All to care are fame and gold, proven wrong I have not.

You feed of only through crimson red windows.

Flung away is what thy hearts, torn apart is what thy limbs.

"Lift thy swords! And let it dance against their throats!"

The cries and piercing sound of a black arrow sang in the air like a hornet.

" What a gush of euphony!"

How it swells! But ye kept turn a blind eye.

Words shelled in sucrose, senses deaden.

O' grantors of sorrow and demise!

Grant this last wish of mine! Burn this world whole, and so take down too what is left of I!

Dolls and Puppet

 Fear not on whom are not capale to take the body. However, take fear upon those whom are able to take the soul and what is unworldly. Death adn darkness, never are the two described as kind. Count not thy steps , for it matters not. What is life? What is death? In pure honesty I, until currnt time could not see the vague line that seperates the two to be different. In a dee darkness follows light. And within such blinding light, follows that darkness. In death follows a funeral, in life follows death. How such uncertainties disturbs me most. "Is it a dear of the end?", Let me tell you this, gentlemen. Fear is not one whom took over I, not whome drove me to this state of madness. For death in its truest form is not the end of this thing we call life; nor is it the start of a new one. For death is a part of it. The more we are to live, the more we are to know about death. The closer we are to death, the more we are to understand on the purpose of living; and so, vice versa. Death is cold, dark, and hollow. Like a doll it does not posses a soul nor does it to a will. This clears the fog within the defenition of death. It is not when ones heart stops itself from beating, it is when both feel and will is lost. Once will is no more, thou shall dance, walk, and talk like a puppet, A doll, This, however, does not better life in any way either.