To The Man I Always and Never had.

You were always there,

But you were never here.

I can feel your touch,

Your screams,

And your agony.

You’re cradling me,

Taking me to places,

Without even holding me.


If Wonderland Is Real

A night full of misfits,

but I started to love the danger that lies ahead,

the moment you tie your hair up,

and undress your entire soul.


You showed me

that the plain supple surface of your skin,

can be a wonderland to a lost soul;

I don’t want to find my way out.


The gentle scratching of your hands,

is the rumbling sensation I feel with or without you.

I got in; I got out

Tell me how can I give you up?


The wild ride is thrilling,

that is like a slope full of treachery,

that goes left and right;

up and down.


I’ll be buying another ticket;

to the carousel ride,

coz when the sun showed up,

I know I have to turn off the lights.


There’s no life under the shadow of the light,

If carnivals last the whole day,

If wonderland is real,

this affair won’t be surreal.


We’ll be true…

At least,

to the part where you touch me.

Ode To The General

Father of freedom, but we’re asleep in the revolution,
sold the country to the whites,
while browns are fighting for freedom.
A living god in his own hell;
hailed by few, pleaded by many.
Sprinkled ash of their bodies,
sprinkled their blood,
he who claims to have the victory,
fails to stop the bleeding of his own soul.
Now he’s safe in the hands of his crafter.
Hello General, say hi to Satan for me.



Photo source:


Scattered smiles all over a one way corridor,
tainted with the agony of life and death.
Where windows are shattered, patched up by leftover tears from
the outside.
Everybody has a story to tell,
to whisper,
to yell.
Silent prayers linger in the air,
unseen tears – shed at night,
Like a waterfall in a desert.
Gazing through windows, watching cars fly by.
We can pretend it’s just a dream,
but we cannot lie to thee.
Our bodies’ still at the ground,
are you gonna wait there til you’re found?





She wore the sunlight as if there’ll be hurricane afterwards,

the way she holds the thunder;

the way she touch you when you’re homesick.


When will you come back?

Her light’s fading,

not having the slightest idea

If she can hold your soul in heaven.


In a hundred echoes,

In a thousand pages that yellow it turned,

She’ll follow you,


She died in the cradle of the wind.


I had a dream,

swinging on a vine of knotted memories,

vision’s blocked out.

It was you that I saw over the grey space,

covered with dust and sweat and blood.


I was searching and searching;

for a shadow in a room without light,

I was searching what I already found,

but now,

out of sight.


I saw the vine cracking,

I saw a hand shaking it,

You held it when it was a about to break.

Blood’s dripping on my face,

T’was your hands who tried to save me from falling.

I let go.

I was trying to save you from tearing apart —

You chose to die with me.


We’ll be forever roaming the outfields of our core,

that was once

our home.