Lover’s Dice

Fool her once,

She’ll slip you inside

Admire her twice,

Out comes the serpentine.

Rose petals shed

As distilled love

Retires to bed

And the moaning

Becomes faint whispers

Of forgoing acrimony.

Taught me not to cry

Taught me to never rely

Just like regal sacrifices,

We must slice and splice

To be content

It’s lover’s dice.

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Intangible Enlightenments 

Oh, the sweet smell of success

After a hard day’s strife

May it linger on everafter

Throughout the course of your life. 

May fortune prosper

And mellow your austere 

And follow what you cannot see

For dreams are intangible, 

But they will always be free. 

 

Pace

If slow is the way you go

Then stop jumping over the cliff

Of heartbreak.

If life for you is much too fast,

Then you’re not soaking the pleasantries.

Fishing in the Desert

It’s the end of the world you once said.

Watching the tv, existential dread.

Sick of the lack of humanity 

Tired of the senseless insanity. 

Repent. 

Lament.

The world may never be the same. 

But for one, I can acclaim

Dread is fishing in the desert 

And refrain only leads to revert.

Hexed By Vexed

The abundance of places

Variety of faces

And I am solely vexed by yours

Perplexed upon where it has been

Convinced that such place should be shared with me.

Torn how our worlds never collide

Regardless of fate, where may we confide?

I’ve been hexed by your charm.

 

When Lovers Become Strangers

The most peculiar

And the most dwindling part

Of a love’s cycle

Is when lovers become strangers.

As if the journey never happened at all.

Where one side vanishes

The other reminisces.

The puzzle pieces never match afterward.

And only one is burdened by that.

 

 

You’ll Get There

If you’re slacking

You’re sinking

If you’re wishing

You’re not dreaming

The journey may be everlasting

But you’ll get there.

If you’re trying

You’ll be falling

You’re crying

You’ll be calling

The journey is never that easy

Yet, you’ll still get there.

 

 

 

Help You 

Sometimes we need friends

Once pulled like split ends

Sometimes the histories mend

Perspectives mend, tides bend

Although we strive to help one another 

Hold hands for our own brothers

At times the best helping hand

Is the one you use yourself

To call for help. 

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