Writer’s Addiction

Questioning the writer’s intention is rather an insult.
Yet we tend to write,share our thoughts to connect with the audience,
We treat our craft like antique paintings such as Mona Lisa,giving it a pretigious appraisal everyday
Hide away our confusion, believing that the reception is less likely to be misunderstood,
We care less about how the world view our craft,
striving to make a point
The intelligent minds tried to analyse our intentions.
Everyday we become more and more unpredictable.
Our writing ability flows so smoothly like the stream,
everyday we wake up with new dreams.
Though we try to ignore their meaning, we keep painting picture that evoke emotions considered to be buried.
This craft is naturally rooted, being explored with every aspects of our human senses.
Our space is filled with sweet soul soothing aroma,
tasting very sweet yet bitter, a far fetched tune echo so softly in our ears.
Commanding us to dance to our only known music,
We enjoy seeing them confused, keeping them wondering…
Giving them the freedom to choose the reception of our craft
Forgeting to read between the lines
Together we can take the climb
But there is no guarantee that both of us will return alive,
We die with ignorance,
Doubting ourselves to take that next step

The underlying conspirancy of loving someone

The heart never felt contented,always wanting what is really impossible to get,

Haunted by dellusional thoughts that lingers in your mind,

Fulfilling it desires without considering the circumstances,

forgeting to gather useful facts, one cannot force the other person to love him back,

The success story will take place once you reach an agreement,

Stiilness of time provoke your inner self.

Dissappointments increase the level of your bitterness,

your soul yearning to get and feel th promised happiness,

When you wake up from your dreams, you realised that you’ve been left in darkness,

The cut really runs deep,Numbness is the only thing you feel,

Lost closure keeps you blind, give yourself time to regroup,

many had went through the same experience,

You ain’t alone, You only human.

there are certain things you cannot control,

What’s the point of inviting the beast into your home,

ought to leave a scar behind,evicting himself when he had enough

Left his luggage in your closet, creating clutter in your own house.

Cried yourself to sleep,examining your numb, motionless body to feel the pulse

Embrace the feeling of being alive, entitled to acheive greater things, no doubt. 

I was wrong

Sometimes we tend to judge very quickly,

Build our judgement without crucial evidence,

react impulsively,yet we portray our nature as being considerate

When we realise that we made  a mistake

We become embarrassed to go to the soul we’ve hurt to ask for forgiveness.

Feeling reluctant to deal with the problem on hand,

giving ourselves false hope that time passed will bring healing,

Yet the unattended problem keeps on growing,

we need to deal with our differences while we still have time

Tomorrow it might be too late

Our ignorance wil make one to start to hate

accept your flaws,nothing was built with utmost perfection

Except God’s creation

Do not bueden yourself with other people’s expectations,

You are bigger than your imagination,

the truth is immutable,

All people are fallible

Stay firm in what you believe in, be faithful

Trust your instincts,do not allow doubtful thoughts to over power you

Accept you’ve made a mistake,

Allow peace to fill your troubled soul,

Let go of all the bad energies that had consume your soul and heart

Never let them to tear you apart, Ii is fine to let things be…without a fight

Sometimes we need to step back a little,take deep breath and take time to react.