Fear to hear

This is a nightmare of fear.
Something you wish not to hear.
I crave for happiness, so-
Never play with the heart,
and this is a warning.
Not to let self hurt to occur,
with a dramatic narrative of people
and lives,
enmeshed in a deadly ritual
of passion, intrigue and corruption.
One,
shall invite the punishment
that will exceed
the feel of the crime.
Hurt me not.
Hurt me not.


Don't. Do. It.

Stupidly melancholic

So the proverbial dejected feelings begin
with the sudden lost of interest. 
From the other side of the world, of course. 
For the fear of being total at lost, 
the stillness remained as the only preference 
to abide by the rule of being survivors. 
One side is crestfallen down to the mouth, 
another oblivious. 
The deflated mode was perceptible 
although no immense action taken nonetheless . 
Fly, fly, roar into the sky,
the choice is in the hand, 
bar the bird then choose to be tied.
The plethora of alternatives to opt
hoard the preeminent perhaps?
No, not the contentment to be desired.
Perchance, the truth.
The verve.
The fervor

Old tale

We walk, and run, and stroll today,
keep on going in circle again.
The same old tale.
Then we just stare into the night sky,
along the downhill road we met
is a place of visible memories,
one time should we just miss.
A strange old tale.
It is what you see in fiction,
an unexpected scenario of life.
It is not always the happy ending,
that we may get.
Time cuts through
our unending memories.
We then look in the same direction.
Again.
This is the old tale.

The story once told to you..

Once upon a time,
there was a..
a...

She was a..
a...

He was a...
a...

But, one day,
they...

So....

Still, they...
He....
She....

The end.

........................................


(every 'THE END' is a new beginning of a new story. Don't stop)