Friday, May 21, 2010


My face glint
with confidence
at morn's birth,
bathing to the rays
of the Father Sun,
upon visioning you
having a deep sleep
on my tranquil core.
In between the sunrise and sunset
the weather change
and night after night
the wind gets colder.
As i breath the chilly air
of the disintegrated east
to the sway of the pendulum,
you rise and burn.
Not the embrace of angels
can stop you from ascending
when the blood is boiling
and rushing through my veins.
I can't hold you still
when you want to dwell
in a fatal nature
from rocks to rocks
beating my anger
to burst once more.
It's another ebony morn
without the day itself
when my mountain of temper
is out of control.

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