At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet.
submerging in a pool of uncontrollable emotions.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Penned down emotions @ 2:44 PM

Reality or NOT.

Reality or NOT .

We used to talk all day and night
Texting each other twenty-four seven
Until you pulled the rope too tight
And I let go because I was craven

We went to each others' house
Til we complained too many times
That minor problem handled in touse
Costed her cab ride more than a dime

We do not feel guilty
For certain things we do to each other
But if it's worth a pity
Of such things, we do pother

Challenges ahead we faced together
We braced ourselves one after another
We still quarreled when we're weary,
Certain statements we often query

It was that special place
We used to gather
We used to have our fashion craze
Having fun altogether

P
hantasmagoria and mysterious
A chimerical terrestrial reverie
Our special place, of deliriousness
That no one else can see

We were exhausted
Decided to take a break
Under the sun, we were toasted
We had sunburn and bodyaches

I opened my eyes widely in anxiety
Was it for real? Could it be?
This nightmare I've awoken from
Feels dark, cold and lonesome


I saw her face reflecting against the light
Darkness began to take over the Earth
Creepy and cold atmosphere for a night
The moon swelled up as we stood side by side

We entered the gates in discreet
Silence labored on everything that has breath
Walking down the quiet street
We fear, approaching death

~~~~~~~

The dark aura spreaded throughout the street
Suddenly, I heard the sound of drums
And the maracas following its beat
Music played, I silently hummed

What was this familiar tune?
Mysterious yet pleasant
Pictures flashed in my head, with the playing of that rune
I somehow remembered, it's somewhat significant

Then the tune changed
My heart jumped
as I realised I appeared in a clear room, furnitures nicely arranged
Out of the innocence, I heard a grump

When I turned to find out who it was
I was being stopped
From behind, a dice was tossed
Then something popped

Petrified, I did not move
I heard a voice saying
"Your sin you must remove
A visit to the Holy King you'll be paying"

What did the voice mean?
To whom am I visiting?
Who's the Holy King?
Where on EARTH am I going?

What is happening?
Who was grumping?
Where is this place?
Why do I not see her face?

Where had she gone?
Was she not with me?
I feel faint, I yawned
My body gave way, I let me be

Then I heard sounds of a bee
There was a huge landscape, sunlight, fresh air and grass
A man stood there smiling at me
Leaning on the bark of a huge oak tree

Then he spoke, "Get up and follow me."

~~~~~~~

While I was brought around this greenfield
He turned to me and smiled
My hands he touched and held
He asked, "What do you see, my child?"

I did not know what to reply
I guess I was still traumatized
of the quick-changing sceneries and atmosphere
But now, a steady, sweet scent I smell and a sweet sound I hear

A second look the man gave me
This time, more concerningly
"Are you all right?" He said
Suddenly breathless, I needed some sort of aid

Was this a dream?
Am I dead?
Of some sort it would seem
that I'd wake up, shocked, in my bed

A gentle laugh broke the tense atmosphere
Before I knew it, I'd already let out a tear
That voice that sounded so tender
I'd just found out it's God, Our Father!

The one who appeared before me
The one who can help me
The one who can find the cure
To heal my wounds, just like before

So many things he did for me
I could no longer hold it in
I hugged him tightly
as if he was my only kin

A sudden white light blinded my eyes
I felt many pulling me apart
Trying to struggle free
I moved, hit and fought hard

Everything stopped
I could finally see now
My jaws dropped
My heart beat fast somehow

To my horror
I saw things I did not want to see
There must be some kind of error
Why is this happening to me??

Their cold bodies above each other
Some still alive that wouldn't bother
About the others' life whether
They were still alive or not either

There I stood alone
It was dark and cold
But there stood my first clone
Smiling at me, somewhat diabolical.

CHECKMATE! Yumeitto .


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All poems are strictly copyrighted © 2010.

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Vwen

Oeuvre.
Vwen is my pen name.
Christian. 0509.
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