subliminal desire

Just seeing your angelic face
I feel as if I’m in sweet embrace
Your smile is like the sun’s rays
The world stops revolving
I’m no longer in haste.

I long to touch your face
To kiss your lips
To feel the warmth of your body
To hold you in my arms.

But what can I do,
how can you be mine?
I don’t have the courage to speak;
I’m lost in line.
You’re not just beauty,
you are divine
Whereas I’m as ugly as Frankenstein.

And so everyday I come here and visit
In this corner of the library,
for hours I sit
Imagining you and I together in bliss
I think I am going insane…shit!

Your hair is like a smooth flowing river
The movement of your body,
I can vividly remember
Like a goddess from above,
full of mystery and wonder
You always struck my heart in sweet surrender
Oh, I feel like I’m lost in heaven forever.

But I shall just content myself in fantasy
We will never be together in reality
I cannot be myself, or else I am going crazy
In the recesses of the abyss I shall just bury
The darkness of my true identity.

my people

What do you want me to do
For you my young people, my countrymen?
I have loved you but
My love for you is an excruciating
Flame to me and worthless to you,
And now I abhor you, and abhorrent
Is a fire that burns your arrogant
Soul.

I have showed you compassion and
Kindness but it has only increased
Your stupidity, exalting and nourishing idleness,
Sluggishness, which is futile to life.
And now I see your senile
Feebleness which my soul despises.

“Hypocrisy is your religion, and
Falsehood is your life, and
Nothingness is your ending; why
Then are you living? Is not
Death the sole comfort of the
Miserable?”

You turned your back from the light
And seek out darkness. You
Are muddy stagnant rivers, swarming
With verminous insects and vipers.
Your rubbish souls smell like a
Dung which the winds scatter,
Poisoning every weak being like you.

I despise you because you
Despise glory and greatness. I tried
To pull you up but you’ve been
Pulling me down. I hate you
Because you loathe yourselves. I
Shall be your adversary, for
You fail to acknowledge your
Inferior presumptuous way of living.
Your hearts are withering from thirst yet
You continue pretending to be strong.

My hope for humanity made me
Come down to your place to
Show you the light. Yet you have
Long been blinded by your ignorance.

Once more, I’ve seen, and you
Have proven the weakness of the crowd,
Of the herd. I shall go back
Now to heavens and bring you
Down thunders and lightning, for
You deserve to be conquered, to be
Destroyed!

the SEARCH

Long has she been surrounded by the loneliness and gnawing cold of the universe. She has always been silent, strange, and wondering among other worlds like a separate firefly surrounded by too many mysteries and secretly roaming in darkness.

For a while she thought she is free; free from the prison that was consuming every dab of her sanity. They say she’s like an animal, a spirit, a statue, a picture; all together mixed up in a box of confusion and uncertainty.

She longed for a far away very holy but unreal world of its own. She had to escape and flee to the world where things were no doubt precious and beautiful and live life immaculate of complexity and confusion.

Yet there seemed to be a bond between her and misery. A bond she had to trace; reality she has to face.

The world breaking apart around; flowers lacked fragrance, rivers ceased to flow, birds stopped chirping, nature held no attraction. Music became a grating noise, books were nothing but papers, poetry were so much words without meaning. Dreams fell apart.

She has drained every dab of her being that she may be able to rapture her soul from the abyss of tormenting darkness. Yet life is retrieving inward. She longed for euphoric bliss of freedom but she has long since become used to slavery and loneliness that she often secretly succumbed to consuming fits of melancholy and despair. It is not her lot to lay down in a bed of roses and breath fullness and comfort; she prod herself living in a scourge recklessness.

Her misery is joy hence miserable of her joy. Her solace is suffering thus she suffers in her solace. Her heaven is hell. What is the difference between the two anyway? Her death is her life, for everytime she dies she kept on resurrecting and has to be miserable again, has to suffer again and perhaps suffer even more in this aesthetic wretched world. For whatever she does, or wherever she turns to, she could not hide nor deny who she really is.

…she is me.

But then…

…who am I?