Life is a series of written pages,
Climaxes and minimum wages.
The words so carefully written
As life is craftily laden.
The hope of lovers,
With the fear of fevers.
The joy of new breath,
With the anguish of death.
The story isn't over quite yet,
Characters we haven't met.
The twisted road to life
Is sometimes paved with strife.
I can only tell you my story,
With you as my friend,
Just a tale of you and me
Till that last page says,
"The end."
Go With Grace
Each morning of this month
When you rise upon your bed,
May it be with renewed grace
To face the
I don't have a controller,
And I don't have a screen,
I don't need to be plugged
You may see me struggle,
but you won't see me fall.
Regardless if I'm weak or not
Laid my head upon your chest
Your arms encircled me,
It was, My Love, as if we we
You are blinded by shame
For all you have done
It hurts me so bad
That I
It's an unexplained feeling that we all hope to find
That wonderful feeling that seems to
Look not back on yesterday
or what you have left behind.
For only today is yours
Since all my steps are audience of my past,
a past damasked by relevant joys, pain, growt
have you ever had a kiss
that took you on a bliss
and left you with shaking knees
Raindrops on window panes
Stars at night that are just airplanes
Sparks of light
