Tourism

All that ends in a wave

A fateful day ahead, they may say

Such irony, a conspiracy of this world

This bizarrely brazen world

And the story will be left untold

Or will the world participate

In another fateful journey, or another

And all the worlds will come and go

And all that begins, for in the beginning

Another time, a burial underground 

The Samsara of this world, unrepentant

And the benevolence is unpaid, someday

The white sands will flare up like the sun

And a bright moon will crash onto the earth

Someday, this will all end, and the cycle

The cycle of life starts anew, it starts afresh

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

And a frequent tourist of this world

Unbetrayed, yet the sky will fall

Or will the ground become the sky, the sky

The sky is blue, perhaps lacking the clouds

But where are the clouds

The rainbows are obfuscating the world

The beauty, a beauty, and it will all end

Unremorseful, for it's the end of life

But a story, a story of fate

Will the readers be able to comprehend

The code, hidden through time

Behind the veils of an unmoving sun

But will it unveil

And here it will unveil

The code that governs the sanctity of this

This world that has been forsaken by time

Unmoving, unspoken, unperturbed by loss

But is there something else beyond

Beyond all of these... codes

A ghostly vision of us, the past lives

Or parallel to all that walk alongside us

Another history, or maybe it is history

A true self, yet all these true selves

Are but walking through this layer of dust

Choking in gas, poisoned by Samsara

To release, to release it all, catharsis

And this whole world will be gone, today

To release it all away, the tensions of truth

But will there be a someday, sometime

Nothing will be gone, ever again

But is this just a discrepancy

Two sides to every history, a writer

A writer is the God of this world, unperturbed

Undisturbed by the wills of the characters

And someday, the ghosts of desire will rise

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust

But when I'm gone from this world

Can we all just carry on

Hand in hand

Heart to heart?

Ashes to ashes

Dust to dust

Carry me away

Heart and heart.

An Endless Beginning, Under the Unmoving Sun

A sun and a moon

as the sun never sets, will the moon ever rise

as long as the sky is blue, an absent clockwise

a spirit wails from the island below

washing away all their heartfelt sorrow

the pain, the heartbreaking suffering of loss

a thirst unquenched, as the soup's covered in moss

the lord of stagnation sits thinly on the throne

lamenting without tears that the world's all alone

and a disease; the world is so sick, neurotic

the mind, motionless, absolutely chaotic

those beings are but an escape from the psychotic

to submit to endless death and rebirth, hypnotic

A sun and a moon

a really desperate hope that we will all be happy soon

a meditative journey under the long-eternal noon

or is it that we are simply waiting for a big typhoon

to sweep us all away, like the dust on the beautiful spine

a steady rhythm in line, whenever our dreams intertwine

and to love myself and my heart, or is this just a mere sign

of a death and a rebirth of a body that is not mine

And I'll see you soon

I'll see you underneath the millions of gorgeous stars

raining down from the heavens spanning so wide and far

but before that, I must

walk the grey purposeless path to that dusty-spined star

for that, I must

regain control of the pains crawling under my scars

and someday, I must

conquer the inner demons of this world so bizarre

In the beginning

there was a beginningless

and endless cycle of death and rebirth

and there were three poisons

that have diseased the world from the very start

in the end

there was a beginningless

and endless cycle of greed, delusion, and hatred

and a disappointment

has disharmonized the spirits of our hearts

And when that time comes

the three poisons in the world will have fully spread

how beautiful it will be, the path we will tread

but suffering never ends, no tears will be shed

for I hold the cure to my sickness up ahead

and when that time comes

together we will be, frolicking hand-in-hand

along the road to extinction on the white sands

singing to the requiem of the diseased land

by the throne of poison, it will be our last stand

And I'll see you soon

when that time comes

the fated day when

at long last

I open my heart

and whisper to you

I love you

with all of my heart

The World of My Heart

A stagnation

is when all time stops

is when all rely on the truths of the world

to prevent such destruction, underneath this stagnation

and a worldly throne sits on top

of a man-made box, with its worldly shine

someday, we shall be under the unmoving sun

a wonderful family together as one

and there shall be no more hate, only love

and there shall be no more lies, only love

And the sacrifice of another lovely being

and a depressing agreement that we believe in

a world without destruction, never in our lifetime

as whenever time shall stop, the lords of youth shall rise

and this world is an enemy, a peace of our time

a sacrifice, now these are but fragments of our lies

and a ridiculed being, choking in their own lies

our eternal happiness, will it be our own lies?

And none shall be greater than the love of this world

a sacrifice, no, a wisdom to be obliged

and a truth shall penetrate our innermost desires

someday, there may be a way for us to inspire

to all the lost souls, let us love with our hearts

we're in a stalemate, let us cherish our parts

now the world shall witness us rise and fall

underneath the lords of truth, we stand tall

A wailing spirit of false strength and love

a truth dangles, a vine creeps up my spine

and for all the love I give out over time

I do not expect that this time's so sublime

someday, there may be a way for us to proceed

but today, let us rest, and to love we shall plead

nowadays, the world only strives to bring us down

and we will show them the way to that resting town

Our lords of stagnation, may you rise from your throne

let time stop in its place, please don't leave me alone

let the sun never set, for our love is immovable

those enemies of our time, their love is removable

and when oh when shall all our suffering end

happiness will end, and this we must contend

today, tonight, I love you with all my heart

and when our time resumes, will you play your part?

A love is a wisdom, now it's our time to go

sacrifice the fragments of our long time ago's

and today, tonight, we will be a family

but tomorrow night, will it be a tragedy

oh my lord, my exalted lord of stagnation

do stop the sun from setting down the horizon

and the clouds to be in lengthened meditation

until the sad time comes when we are to wisen

Please, lord, let this time stand still

let our happy times stand still

they call it stagnation, I say elation

as we walk towards the path of creation

and the lords will soon fret, sighing in nigh

and our suns will soon set, crying in nights

and a wisdom, no, a wisdom of salvation

to protect the outcome of our love's foundation

To protect us from this world

this sad world of damnation

is our love really a sin

deserving crucifixion?

To Walk on Water

In the beginning

there was a key to the sky

above the endless sea of beginnings

and like a spoon from the heavens

stirring the soup of life

and the birth of the protagonist

by an apple tree in a beautiful field

by the chapel's free will, we will never yield

And there was a time

when the nightly stars aligned

a stupendous white sky

and on your lush face, they're defined

and our miraculous bright cries

that our rest will never be till sunrise

for the lord of stagnation's head will rise

sitting on a golden throne, unsurprised

So it is now or never

yet week by week, time flies

as the past, present, and future collide

and the waves of rebirth subside

as the foreign beings walk on water

threading past a neverending forever

will our dreams only scream a never

or to write a happy ending together

Amidst your unparalleled beauty

our souls bind together by the light

and I will protect you with all my life

in a world where death is a new life

on the seventh day, we shall lie down and rest

underneath the cool shade of fate's woven crest

and life's true wonders shall bow at your behest

yet happiness is still the goal of our quest

In the beginning

the heavens and the star were created

now the star was dustless and barren

and a traumatizing lightless field

was over the surface and underground

and the spirit of the angel

the messiah of a being's true self

was walking on the soup of life

looking upwards, the angel asked

"will you be my friend?"

Chasing a Smile

There was a time

when the world was a beautiful lie

a hope that we could all see each other

as a fellow human being

and that was a dutiful lie

a creator's vision of a peaceful star

that we human beings could breathe on

and an undying will that we could live on

A dreamer's will is naught, but forsaken

a splendor of this world, my wings of freedom

a brilliant light, shining down on the dark

a blot in the purest essence of mankind

and a freedom, a liberation from war

an internal war, a battle among my selves

a wisdom, like a gorgeous quill inking the world

a story to tell, or maybe to rewrite this world

A world where all events shall be fated

according to my will, and an ark I will sail on

voyaging through the seven seas, strange as they are

an odyssey to figure out who we truly are

an adventure, a journey, a transition through time

and the wild depths of the unknown, now rise

the ghosts of everything shall call out my name

and dance by the graves of history and time

Do not despair, for my dream is the world

a wild land across the open seas, unexplored

as I lie on this ark, under an immovable sun

I witness a thousand timelines fly across the sky

a thousand dreams, a thousand lives, yet now

I wield the quill of life, a story of solely mine

as I walk ever so merrily on the soup of life

I will rewrite this world, under the calm blue sky

So let us be dreamers, wandering into the sunset

and let us be thinkers, pondering until the sun sets

a story everlasting, a story neverending

and let us be together until our happy ending

A Grey Walker to the End

A poem, of which I ought to say

as a spirit withers away

and silently, the tides will rise

yet someday, maybe there will be a way

a dream, yet where am I

enclosed, a box made of my mind

a sweet serenade from an outside lie

a feeling unreconciled, a lie

A façade, and we are but a truth

so are we but lamentations of the end

a creeper, weeping through the end

and secretly, the dreams are dead

unbent through the end

in the beginning, there might be a place

a home, maybe a hibernation corner

a refuge, from the refuse of the end

and all our dreams are dead

as we march towards the end

A rapier, yet the rocks are tactile

but my mind is fragile, but really just agile

a thousand words, and none makes sense

that is why the lives are far more dense

a crater, just another crater of life

but whoever shall shine, a pleasure on the line

and a path, no, many paths to the end

a brilliant light, but why is it still night

At sundown, maybe some things will change

will the dust be swept, a lonely throne

as I greyly walk towards the end

a dull cold penetrates my run-down sweater

but will there be a truth, waiting in the sky

or just a path, a grey path of lies

a day talker, or maybe I'm to tend

the eternal grey walker to the end

And the Gods will witness

my story till the very end

The Grey Spirit

Has my time come, I wonder

my children, who are beyond my dreams

you call yourself siblings yet I cannot protect you

from the destinies that you have written

a truth that you believe in

inside your brilliant minds, I wonder

to sweep the dust off the Spine of the World

and to break free from your worldly moulds

but however it goes, whenever you visit

I will guard the throne to the lord

yet, that is what I truly wanted all along

that is why I remain strong, for all of you

a sacrifice, however lonely I may be

so take your time, children, take your time

yet, it would be selfish to call you my children

for we were all from the same Angel, aren't we

yet I've been protecting you all this time

all this while, serving as your strength

your sword and shield, yet I need no recognition

just be safe, and do not be concerned about me

for the Gods are splendid, and now I have seven

the children of the lost, brutalized by this world

my children on the aboveground, siblings in name

do take your time, for I preach in my name

"There's no need for concern, that I may be lonely

if you plan to return, do bring yourself only

and my blade shall in turn, destroy the enemy

and you will then discern, this world's true tragedy

a house for my children, I have built from the bones

of those damned guilt-ridden, they won't leave me alone

I'll keep the door unlocked, for when truth's set in stone

and when you feel landlocked, there's a lord on the throne

Meanwhile, I'll be waiting, forever and ever

in this underground cave, Samsara, forever."

The Sweepers' Dreams

What is stagnation?

A destination

a procrastination forevermore

a relaxation, and may all the lords

forsake whoever more, but our swords

and my futility in this mutiny

a liability, not a responsibility

a craving for a dream that never creeps

an eye that never sleeps

or a heart that never weeps

a mother's poem, a flower blooms now

yet, aren't there any other rooms now

for us to make a long solitary bow

a rest from the day, for we did our best

a symbol in the sky, and the clouds never lie

but will they never lie, even after we die

and yet the crevices never cry

even after the hastily-spoken demise

of a heftily-woken surprise

that the world will end whenever

a tomorrow, or a year, or a century or forever

a greater cause, or maybe a major loss

forever, forever, however, we're together

a lover, a friend

a fervor, godsend

forever, and forever, and forever

A sign of hope, or maybe a never

a crater, but a debris from the sky

a meteor, and from a tree that could sigh

purposeless, for the dreams are just gone

or just mourning under the dirty backyard lawn

the day becomes days, the week becomes weeks

whoever shall break through this isolated system

another, and another, and another

a wisdom, concealing beyond our freedom

squealing for help, a bloody deluge

and the seas of golden-purple, bloodied refuge

a soup of life, a stagnation

an island of I, levitation

a spine of the world, meditation

a death, a rebirth, a meaningless samsara

and all our dreams are now buried in samsara

Let us sweep the dust off our skins and spines

for we are the stars of seams and fauna

let us sit and make peace with winds and wines

and reach for the stars, dreams of nirvana