Orange, amber, crimson leaves,
Cold droplets of soothing rain,
Torn between the warmth and cold
Of the inner and outer worlds.
Breathing in the autumn winds,
Each puddle reveals her dance.
Raw. The girl with the red umbrella.
Speak with an open heart you may,
Announcing to the world one day:
“Night turns to daylight now, in May,
Creating songs, I will portray
The words which will not know decay.”
Unknown to you, poems obey
And you reach peaceful, hidden bays,
Reality is far away.
You’ve met with your self-created fate.
Careful how you speak to me
Or I might run away again.
Words carry meaning, you see,
And I listen to the music of your soul.
Read me like an open book you may, but
Deep down, I always hide myself.
In the darkness of my night I bathe…
Careful—or you’ll only get to see the side of me
Everyone else but few will always think is the real me.
Don’t look past my thick, dark curtains.
Everything is fine and well.
Promise. You don’t need to worry.
Reassurance. Burden. Well…
Every day’s a roller coaster,
Seemingly endless in highs,
Seemingly endless in lows and
I always end up down here.
Oh, don’t worry, I’m just tired…
Nothing new. Do carry on.
Raindrops falling on my shoulder—
An enchanted touch I feel.
In the distance, I hear thunder.
Nothing else can reach me here.
Dancing barefoot on the pavement,
Resurrected to be free,
Once again embracing coldness,
Pouring rain covers my being.
Silence and serenity…
Seeking her freedom from He who
Captured and tied her with His strings,
Invoking true love—such a myth,
She wants to cut ties and to bloom.
So, she decides to free herself,
One pair of scissors is her sword.
Ridding herself of what he means,
She now remembers who she is.
Vile beings had hurt him greatly,
Ending his chance at happiness.
Now he had nothing and was empty,
Guided by thoughts so merciless.
End it he will, himself included,
Anger devouring his mind.
No, he was not at all deluded,
Carcass of lucid thoughts—revenge
Engraved on all moments to come.
A challenge is born in the quiet night,
Creation belongs to the curious mind.
Rejoicing in limits—for they set him free,
Of another world. The poet thus breathes.
Surreal the peace which governs the world,
The storm that’s inside him to thunders gives birth.
In moulding the tight chains, he knows he is free,
Creating his rhythm towards liberty.
Redeem yourself—when all seems to be lost,
Even the shadows left the empty carcass.
Forgot yourself—no future and no past
Levitate between nightmares and an empty canvas.
Ethereal worlds, your being is amidst
Crevices of imagination and reality.
Taking the truth of who you are from both those worlds,
Inspired by the mirrors of infinity.
Ongoing trials—you know once again—
Negate your sense of vast confusion. They show you who you are.