Ðarkness lay spread, waiting, as I awoke at an hour unusual for me to wake up. I washed my face, settled my bed, tuned into my running attire and selected a fresh tee shirt, in black, and before I could step into my old red New Balance 373, I was already out of the door.
I needed to run. I needed to run away from the noise in my head, caused by someone a thousand miles away. So I ran, nay, I sprant. I did my best sprint through the streets all the way to the park and some more within it and before I could exhaust the potassium in my body as well as outrun my thoughts, I realized that instead of all that I could, in tranquil, wait for the sunrise.
I suddenly remembered, there had been a broadcast announcement that a typhoon was to hit Hong Kong this day and so it made sense to why there were so few people in the park. I felt more comfortable, and I knew that all that I had to do was to simply look and take in the beauty unfurling without holding onto my breath.
She seems to understand some things That which only she can conclude I want her to conclude them all And Begin afresh with me once more.
She is afraid to try again this love, This pain that shattered us both But I wish she find courage And walk to me with a hope.
I would wait for her for years If only she’d say ‘give me time to come’ I would ready a world for her To welcome her when she does.
She is timeless confusion, A clock that ticks and makes time stop I am here waiting for the hour The day she concludes her comprehension.
She is that flower in the valley of gardens the fragrance of which travels to me And I’m worried if I should pluck her, lest she would wither with mine love unseen.
She is my every desire, burning endlessly The flames that I feel no warmth of yet, Her light she turns away from me To discover her self-perpetuity.
She has dreamed already her future, And I am nowhere to be seen. Even when the dawn is nigh Comes yet not a day to begin.
She carries her mind in her heart now And friendship is the word on her mouth My heart is still filled with hope. Invigorated with every beat that strokes.
I’d paint her my poem and sing her my dance If only she’d glance at me with warmth, once Now there is only nothing and hope. And sleepless slumbers into idle nights And a puncture in the bottom of my heart Where all the love songs pour right out。
ϖhat hath ye that stole mine light? Now it slumbers still as stone. Long gone ye and I unthrone, Pondering the weight of lovelorn grown. Strange the joy that sets us weeping, Quiet river of melancholy flows. Divided minds blame the bodies, crippled hearts now lead by the nose.
What hath ye that makes mine surrender? To the petals of the blooming rose. Thorn after thorn, in pain I groan Climbing the stem spreading the pollen sown. Robust weather and all things blue, Birds chirping to the mystical hue. Why must thou leave the forest, Must ye need to venture the new?
Why cannot thou have thy spirit strong? To fix the old and renew, reform. To place thy trust in thy own hands, So that only ye would solely understand. To place thy faith in the old soft spot. Courage and sail upon the angry sea, arrive To the Mountains that have stood tall, forever So shall our dignity if you allow it to be。
It is amazing how people pull themselves out of it. Some through time, some using substance, and some who endure it all within. Regardless of what the pain may be, we human beings usually always push ourselves through and having said that, my deepest condolences to the souls that were not able to.
Have you ever found that sweet pleasure in soaking in your sorrow? The feeling of utter incompleteness, helplessness and the haunting emptiness, a peculiarity which turns honey bitter and coffee sweet. It is in these circumstances that a person can find that lone berry, a wild red cherry, poisonous, and yet the sweetest, that you simply cannot pass the opportunity to feel your lowest, the heaviest in spite the great concave hollow. To feel the daily breeze like a hurricane on your skin, to perhaps realize the volume of endurance.
There comes a point in every event of the like, that we find ourselves lost, withered and hopefully hopeless. This suspension in the vacuum and in the endless tick of time, we crave for the impossible, a godly intervention, and even act against our integrity and principles. We break our vow, speak out those things we repeatedly reminded ourselves never to speak of again. Weak is the will of the lovelorn heart, a crippled soul, otherwise an almost defeated man. Yet, somehow despite walking through hell’s hot distance, we find that we may be defeated but never destroyed.
And so, tasting the sweet touch of grief sublime, we must endure. We cannot give in, we mustn’t. For when the new day dawns and the sunlight feels warm, we can remember the horror that has passed. Not explicitly, but a rainbow remains forever. Water tastes a lot sweeter and the grass feels much softer, and every breath reminds you why you are still alive.
Λnd suddenly came the thought that made my mind amiss My smooth life now that shook made sense some more Feelings forgotten surfaced, unexplained as though They were never buried proper, otherwise intentionally sowed. It kept crossing my mind, did not allow me to work Voices from the past spoke of retrospection as ghosts or was it melancholy that I surrendered to? Passed by a day then a week, the urgency only grew I feared, for I felt this was not under my control. A sweet song at play, nostalgia reminiscent came down Tumbling, and drained my solitude presence away.
Anticipation turned into dreams and now it was for sure Being expected presciently, yet so difficult to conceive Questions dance and they taunted the bygone Answers are rare and no definition be found. I turned to one and then to another, in search for a clue or even for just a colour, grey or blue. Yet it only grew the apprehension stronger, longer. Now this hapless event drew me to curiosity, to you And I did what most would do, I tried to see I looked and somehow it made sense to me, The colours were faded but that wouldn’t matter no more For what could break had already shattered. That my divine trophy now is gone Though my heart is crisp and burned, my muse has returned。