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Rays of Feat

We are all born equal. At least, that is what they said.

Plant a tree in a forest and now you feel achieved giving back to nature.

Yet, has it crossed your mind that now it has to compete?

Snatched off opportunities to grasp for air, yet it struggles to live.

Maybe every tree in the forest endured the same, I thought.

Yet, I will rise. Rise to the top and feel the rays of feat.

If the sun shines so brightly, why would not I deserve its glory?

Many will come, to attain pieces of my bark and to bring me down.

They need pieces of me to build structures that lift them, you see?

They can come with all their might, I will stand strong.

If dams built by the body of my kin could withhold so much,

reckon my might, while I stood against storm.

I will grow so strong that men make swords out of wood instead.

Then came the winds. Winds of words and tales.

Not all trunks are the same, they said.

Past the season, much wilted, but some triumph.

Yes, it is true that not all trunks are the same.

I may not have much of a trunk, but I certainly have spunk.

In the end, when spring comes, I would have outgrew the rest.

My flowers will bloom, my leaves will shadow the ground.

People will stand and admire my greatness.

I will be there one day, to grow so strong and high, and to feel the rays of feat.

Tale Of A Poet Behind The 8 Ball

der arme Poet / the poor poet

der arme Poet / the poor poet (Photo credit: pittigliani2005)

You lock yourself in a dark room,

at this point, it is of no point,

that what if it is a sunny day.

Let it rain instead, you thought.

 

Phone rang, doorbells as well,

neither one would worth answering.

Closing in on all,

’twas such a good plan, to not plan.

 

It was not all like this back then,

when you could still see green patches,

when you could still see sunrise,

when you could still feel security.

 

Regrets, so much, so unbearable.

What if I could turn it all back,

that question you cannot stop asking.

‘Buy’ had became ‘Bought’.

 

Spend, spending, spent.

Just like tenses, tales of time,

an indisputable timeline.

A lesson well learned indeed.

 

For the hundredth time, perhaps,

plenty tried to reach into your thick shell.

Finally, though, you answered,

“Leave me alone, my wallet is empty.”

Four Walls

Four walls I built, strong and solid.

They keep me safe, warm and comfy.

Worry not, of storms and disasters.

Four walls are here, strong and solid.

Thoughts and words, just like water.

Within four walls, where would they go.

Rise they be, full of solitary.

Drowned, soon be, with thoughts and words.

Retreat I wish, but just like water,

Where would I go, within these four walls.

Those four walls, strong and solid.

How I wish, there were only three.

A Little Bird; What Better Ways to Love

A little bird, innocent and pure,

Signifying her in every ways possible.

Chirp of an angel, wings of the similar.

Beauty certainly matches those of Heaven’s

What better ways to love, then to see it fly?

Knowing its flight and chirps, will not be of return.

The care, love, and passion given flew as well.

Weight of bond and fond only to lye on both shoulders.

Will she return? A question unknown.

But she flew, flew indeed, so beautifully.

Nothing more could be done,

But to see such a beauty flew with freedom and happiness.

Sad, sad indeed, not for tragedy,

But for letting love leave, such a beauty though,

Then came cold, storm and hardiness.

Yet, in the end, cured by an angelic smile as she left.

What better love could there be?

For loving a bird, and to give her freedom.

Letting go was storm, accepting was warm grace.

She flew, flew so beautifully indeed.

Oceans and Sand

He is one of the many ordinaries.

A person who does not rhyme unique.

She is the one, who is his so many specialties.

Like oceans and sand, never apart.

Oceans and sand nevertheless.

When period passes by,

He let his castle doors down,

For in need she is.

She came in waves, in waves indeed.

Just like any sandcastles, waved indeed.

Soon later, with its warmth, the sun set.

So does the warmth of the beach.

Away she went, the warm waves.

Came indeed, the cold breeze.

Sandcastles were never built again.

What, Who, Why, Where, How, even When?

What, Who, Why, Where, How, even When?

Questions posted for God.

One who believes, a theist.

One otherwise, an atheist.

Just like any substance, an existence.

Bright sunlight represents His presence.

Warmth of an orange sky represents His grace.

Presence of water represents blessings.

However, other form of liquids represents His given tests.

However also, God is a way, a law.

Atheists and theists alike, see Him.

To Hawking, the natural law of Physics,

To St. Peter, a miracle of faith.

An existence of a governing law,

A governor of all governments.

We all ask,

What, Who, Why, Where, How, even When?

The existence; the governor; Him

Names we made for God.

Given answers by allowing us to question.