When the light comes flooding back

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If you see yourself at the end of the road
and wondering
where to begin again…
while all around you is darkness;
What would you do
when the light comes flooding back?

The world you are in is one big messy blur
of foggy highways
you’re on your way, but where to?
Just like being trapped in an endless eerie night
stalking the dawn…
But when it comes, would you be prepared
when the light comes flooding back?

And when at last your sleep is nigh
down to nature’s bed
where every weary traveler arrives;
The reaper of the soul, when it knocks,
Would it be a welcome or a bid goodbye?
when the light comes flooding…

The little bits you take from me—

You asked for a piece of my mind, then my head gears ran nonstop.

You pleaded me to lend you a hand, and I reached out all the way.

You beseeched for my heart, now I can’t make the beating stop.

Spare my soul, s’il vous plaît!…I might give in right away.

 

Wolf senses

the lone wolf in the pack froze
in the chilling year-round winter

keen is his skin to smell the thorns
dodging scratches, shield worn;
yet swords of tongues lash deep,
touching his holy ground of conceit

you can hear his eyes speak tears,
though dry they were and uncried
and the ears are pricked and alert
for the next sound to watch closely

his nose tastes the warnings bitter
for city guards, paving bloody roads

The seven deadly sins

Envy,
when i look at her and hoped it was me you loved…

Gluttony,
when i channelled my pain to food…

Lust,
when i imagined you and me together…

Pride,
when i was in denial of falling for you…

Greed,
but the truth is, i want you all for myself…

Sloth,
when i wasted lots of hours thinking of you…

Wrath,
when i wanted you to feel my pain…

I’m going to hell for all of the above.

if I could paint love

if I could paint love,

it looks like this:

singing you a lullaby when you can’t sleep;

waking up every morning to see what you are up to;

embracing all your imperfections;

cancelling plans to encourage your dreams;

and just being there, like the wind, that pushes you to fly…

(A mother’s love is the most beautiful love there is. Simple, yet strong.)

* * *

Footsteps

I heard him stepping out and slipping in,
the bloody ghost of my past…
intruding my life over and over again
and I feel used,

naked,

tormented,

abused.

I heard him stepping out and slipping in,
laying down his burdens on my shoulder
as if I am a bin meant for the trash
but I felt lighter

when at last…

this time he listens to my plea…
to let me NOT live in his shadow
and create my own footsteps!