Notebook

Passage of time with the loved ones Turn of events tore cloth in two  Time again the cloth is one  Should again be it in two  How will it not be 

I lack words to express my mind It's like a printer lacking ink A flower lacking colours A mother lacking love A night lacking dark A sea lacking depth A fool with a sight A lover in jealousy A lion hunting rats It's like a man, but a stone. .

In a garden of roses what do you seek the one with a bright plumage or the one who weeps beneath the one who smiles brighter than your soul or the one dark enough tell you the truth the one with lesser thorns or the one less likely to not hurt you Each has the one face that we may desire  we can't have what we want may you need the one lying below that plant for that's the one that seeks your demand  

 A mind inside a cavity with walls as thick as own head, To be able to see the light It has to fight its own wit The latter being wiser  Desires to choose from the concoction, Puts forward an opinion A question that stands an auction.  Will you choose to have yourself,  or have this will you may not,  to be able to choose yourself and put yourself apart?

I fear thinking about her I fear falling into the pit again Its only fine particulates that swell in the medium of my unawareness and inattentiveness, that lead to proliferation  of my self doubts and miseries, and leaves a me who  is not needed, if not disastrous. But time heals, and I know the way

  I lost my two more hearts yesterday For one I ceased to believe, for two I just can't What toll does a man pay, to do what he wants to do Its two spaces I drive myself in unaware of which is what I can call myself lazy at this moment if murderer is not very short how lovely the skies are, doesn't matter to me anymore I long to live this life in darkness for this is the chamber I constructed myself for     To see the love of my life in rosy garden   with her hands on mine, the birds chirping over Singing the song of a mysterious love, strange and eerie like some while before Insanely but not surprisingly I shoot them over For the birds come from the lands of lies the shackles of beautiful eyes, and that capitulating scary smile The day yesterday I felt losing myself in the woods, the gypsy of her   stole two more of my precious hearts.