The Train

A man drowned in smile,
"This is my time..."
He said with pride.
He's got the ticket not so long ago.
He'll be gone for the train.

Not things he'll be packed,
only trust that may not be tarnished,
"The 'Greens' won't work, The Landlord told me."

The long walk
for him,
For 59 years old of him,
Will not be sweet,
However trust will give him some.
The Sweets.

Stands still at the platform,
With dancing heart
And singing soul.
He hopes the train may come,
In time.

He drowned in smile
With dreams to die for,
He raises his foot,
Holds on the pole,
Time to say goodbye.

He rides on the train,
Smiles....and tears for a while.
"The LandLord is good, the LandLord is good...!"
He says with tears of joy
and drowning smile.
With dreams to die for.

A Lover of Century

Once did I visit on a path of adventure
Near the fountain of perpetual affection
Where laments are no longer my sin,
Yet I enjoy, a slightly question of love.
-How long will love last? –

And There I sat, crossed-leg sat, facing toward a lover.
A lover, if I may say, as old as the looming trees behind them.
Their gay-ish smiles, shiny yet grayish eyes purely
Dictate me, love of loves.
-How could they be so alive?-

The looming trees, dancing.
The wind, compose.
The bees, buzzing.
The sun, slightly warm.
The clouds, clothed them.
While I
Inspired!

The nature of a lover endlessly blessed them both,
Yet, I saw, a lovely reflection of me
Sit on their very spot,
With the looming tree behind.
How much longer should I wait?
A century he said,
a century of living  striving life of lives for love of loves

yet, once you have found it, he said,
boy you feel so alive.

Dangerous Thoughts

Few I shall adore
Few I shall adore
To die, to be ignored
To die, to be ignored.

My mind. Wanders.
I think too much;
"Why's what."
"How's what."

I put them in threat, said they
"Too dangerous!", said he
"Too vivid!", said she
"Where's fate, where's faith?" Said I

I am right, you are wrong
We both right, they are wrong
"Such rules of boredom!"
The righteous and the wrongs
The goods and the sinners
The agnostics and the atheists
The religious and the damned

Head of mine, spinning, asking, contemplating;
"Where to go?"
Wanders and wonders my mind;
"How's what?"
"Why's that?"

Devoted, some lives had.
To seek the "truth"
The "comfortable illusion of truth"
To answers;
What's right, what's wrong
How's right, how's wrong

O God !
How I stop this lethal mind?

Lamenting Man

Look all the pieces of my dreams

Shattered away since the dawn of time

Now just tarnished realms of rotten faces

Getting wiser getting uglier

This is just who I am right now

Falling off these weak white old crowns

Falling off just like my lover did

From thousand miles oh I did hear

“The train hath come, the train hath come”

That’s just what I’m looking up for now

But never did

On the journey o I had see a lot of smiles

Some are young, some are fools

On the journey I had see lot of loves

Yet what a waste, what a waste

This is just what I got right now

Some said I’m such a mourning man

Mourning things that pretty smalls

But what did they know, o what did they know

This is just what I am right now

I sit around at the graveyard meadow

Brightest shine o I had see

On my right side a marble stones carved as old as mine

And her name, my lover’s name

I sit around at the graveyard meadow

Glooming glow I had see

On my left side a marble chambers opened wide just for show

“That’s the body of mine”

Some said I’m such lamenting man

Lament the things that pretty old

But what did they know, o what did they know

This is just what I am right now

To Love You

Our very soul shall be reasoned

Tampered by tormented world of sin

Under the illusion of devotion

To love you

Our name shall be burdened with loneliness then

Strangled by the weeping sound of stranger’s ills

Begging to be eased

To love you

Though you wish for something shiny up into the sky

But down the earth strife and struggle never come into conclusion

Yet He would never lie

To love you

His face shall condemned bitter by your pretty eyes

Yet he devotes his soul for series of misfortune

For the very being of you

To love you

Your heart ought to questions the essentiality of a friend

For he has done so many what friend couldn't do

To love you

You shall dips your skin into pond of revelation

For he, your friend, the one that dumb enough

To love you

It’s nice to live under a tree

This tree, this wise old tree

Leans her back on to mine

While seeing those pretty geese dine

In a musical score created by the sweet rustle leaves from the pines

In a sensible way, ease my mind.

This tree, this wise old tree

A humble serenity where I found the key

To be someone who I’m supposed to be.

Yet, being me was not the real me

This tree know who I need to be

Then I see her old, old trunk,

I stroke her smooth, smooth yellow brown leaves,

 Protects me from all the plague of sadness,

Then the she sweeps all those windy darkness I see

Away from me. Away from me.

The sunset arrives, some clouds shall fly away

Yet the morrow never betrays

--The hatching sun in the east eventually springs.--

As ravens sit on her branch, and shouting the day,

And my hands hold the wrinkled roots of her; I say

“It was nice to live under this tree.”