And they tell you
Out of tragedy, legends are born
But none seem to mention the struggle
While weaving the heroic tale.
They only talk ballads,
Of monsters slain, and battles won,
But none remember the sacrifices,
They only assume a hero has it all.
DethronedI have created Eden, through the strokes of my pen,
But it was made of promises, and angels
That were too fragile to hold the weight of our sins.
You were my goddess, on a throne made of dreams.
Which you were probably
They didn't glimmer and shine
like the diamonds decorating your rings.
They were the hopes of a man
So madly in love, but you poured poison into his heart
And so he rotted, each time you gifted him with a kiss.
Ave,It's never enough for him,
she'll always be the punching bag
he enjoys to torture so.
Even when he's not around,
his cruelty never fades.
His twisted morals don't allow him to let her go.
He drops off the face of the earth,
a month or two, even more,
but the million memories are still there,
battling, struggling and ripping her
from the inside out,
a massacre within her heart.
With a thousand thoughts in her mind,
and the burning ache in her soul
she holds her pride to her throat,
ready to let her boiling blood pour.
Only then he comes back,
to renew his vows, to reignite
the longing, the sorrow, the so called love.
He took her for granted, that was his sole fault.
He stands aside, envious of her smile, though,
she's no longer his, and her eyes look the other way
while she shares a dance with another man.
She's no longer the wreck he worked so hard to create,
she now soars in skies he can't even dream to reach.
She sees him, but doesn't care,
behind his fanged smile and cold glare
3:00amThere's always fear amidst his joy,
a little voice in the back of his head,
warning him of everything that might go wrong.
Yet, the nightly ghosts and the monsters
who lurk and scratch the floor under her bed,
were just the myths of a man who
wanted an excuse to hold her each night.
He doesn't think like this anymore,
he lies awake and ponders as the shadows
sway in their tribal dance along the walls,
and wholeheartedly hopes, that they
will rip a frustrated scream out of his throat
one that's loud enough to conceal the nagging voice.
"Oh my boy, haven't I warned you?
Love is a sin, don't come near
fairy-tales are only meant for books,
but you dove right in, driven by a foolish need.
You've tasted the bitter end of a blade
roles switched, now you're the monster she fears."
"She says your smile is beautiful,
like a sun shining so bright, a strength through your pain,
yet she fails to see the poisonous thorns
you nurtured with treason and grudge.
She doesn't know
A True RulerMoney rules this world boy,
never let that slip out of your thoughts.
No one would question your actions,
as long as you pay in hefty notes.
Don't you love the social norms,
That made it possible for us to get it all,
Driven by a whim or a simple nod?
While others claw, fight, and even bleed
chasing after their very basic needs,
but all this trouble is as good as dust
if you still can't pay for the things you hold as rights.
Watch us steal dreams, and suck
life and will, while we enslave you behind a desk.
We mock your troubles, and laugh so hard
when you'er about to fall and crumble.
It's not our fault you weren't born
holding on to a golden spoon.
Who cares for how many moments you miss,
While trying to live and sustain,
Or how many relationships die because
You were busy donating sweat,
to the very jobs that promised you to thrive.
And oh, remember those fairy tales you recite,
Of love, family, and a cozy home?
We promise you, you'd tumble under a pile
Of bills for every littl
Upside-DownIn an upside-down world,
Our first meeting will lack shyness,
and the rules of social etiquette,
instead it'll be an insult towards you,
and a bullet through my head
shot from a smoking pistol,
you clutch in your hands.
We'll get to know each other through neglect,
I'll let you go to bed mad,
and you'll hurt me on a whim.
I'll never say I love you,
it's a privilege you can't get.
I'll simply shoo you off,
and you'll give me the finger and walk away.
In this world, where beginnings are tearful,
the endings will be our joy, they'll be the point
where we're supposed to fall in love,
and grow bored of our hurtful routine.
Only then, I'll pull you close and whisper,
about the first time I snapped a picture of
your heart melting smile, the one that
sent me tumbling to the ground,
in the middle of the road, and sent
my coffee splashing all over me.
You were the one who offered me help.
I'll admit I long for your embrace
in the cold mornings when it's raining
You always said we should
count the stars one by one,
for when we reach an infinite,
we'll find the happiness we always sought.
Your bedtime stories were always
about the good, old lady who
decided to knit a blanket for
all the children of the world but,
someone always got left out.
Now I wonder if this was your way
of telling me we were never meant to last.
You braid my dreams,
a single strand at a time,
In each knot I'd hide a runaway fish,
and in every braid I'd search for a hope.
You said I could be the princess,
and you're the knight who'd keep me safe,
because the world around us is so cruel
but you never told me,
I had to be strong on my own.
I vowed to pray in your name,
whenever you lit a candle,
in search for more of our promises
that scattered away in the dark,
but we both knew you won't find any,
you've already gave them to someone else
you were no longer mine,
I barely recognize you anymore.
I wonder if I'll stop seeing the spring
The Ritual of CrossingI.
The ritual of passing through
your heart and into the void
is stuck in the sudden emptiness,
and the scattering of an estranged wind
that whistles so loudly into my ears.
I'm on my own, frozen
inside the longing for
the old breeze that holds
your scent, laughter and
the little taps you left along my neck.
The ritual of passing through
my skeleton and back into your heart
is probably a kite of bright blue
that's born out of the scorching pain in my ribs.
It'd bend its wings a little and soar
right into the hand you use to protect
your eyes from a sun that
doesn't shine as bright for me.
I left you the light, instead
I sipped water out of your hands
and decided to live, even a little.
I still have tears waiting for me,
echoing in the distance, chanting
the tones of a broken heart
You never said my blood would burn
the minute I find rest in another's arms.
You never told me I'd suffer
three hundred and sixty five days
of blazing flames.
I always thought th
Dear little oneBe still tormented little boy,
she's the one for you but
you can no longer call her name.
All your dreams have burned and expired
and you hate to go to sleep
not to see her haunt your nights
and revive a hope you tried hard to purge.
Everyday starts the same,
a quiet, innocent hey, but
behind it there's a ton
of words you no longer speak.
You took an unspoken vow
to keep it buried deep below
and pretend things are okay.
There are days when it hurts
too much to hold back the truth,
and you can't deal with the lump that lurks in your throat.
Oh little boy you wonder if she knows
how much you struggle
to keep your smile burning across your lips,
or how many times you swallow
your pride not to stir a war.
Maybe you're obsessed by now
and she's only playing along,
out of pity because you've lost it all.
Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
Defying FateI grasp Fate by his throat,
scold him for walking uninvited into my home.
I empty the pockets
of his worn out coat
and the happiness of a city,
scatters across my kitchen's floor.
"Aren't you ashamed?
You steal our dreams,
our long awaited goals,
the hope, the memories,
the fleeting I love you's,
and a newborn's first yawn.
Give it back to the people!
That's not what they had planned at all!"
He's old and weary, yet he smiles,
words form in a soft tone,
a total contrast to my screaming voice.
"Oh, but I am a servant of Time,
I can't bring back what's lost,
some dreams are meant to be stolen,
they're too grand to come true."
He twitches when he sees my gun,
a little revolver I load and aim to my skull.
"My dreams are mine you can't steal them tonight,
I'm not a puppet in your parade,
I'll not be driven by your strings and galore,
It's my life and I choose to defy!"
It doesn't even hurt when my blood spatters to the floor.
Nina(French version below)
It's been fifty years since you decided to leave us.
You were so beautiful, so full of life. Your heart like a thin melting candy, your jet-black eyes like a constellation filled with stars, your light and lighted mind like fireflies wandering in a forest scattered with thousands of fragrances. But your infinite cruelty...!
Now that my hair has stopped whitening and that I find myself on the eve of oblivion, I finally realised something. I'm living the same day over again since you're gone.
I wake up with a yawning chasm in place of my lungs -
Screaming out in pain, howling at the idea of being away from you, asphyxiating myself
With this poisoned air, which is even more and more unbearable every single second
When I recall the condition in which I found you.
Henceforth my life is behind me, but I did not live.
We walked on water, drew on the sky, laughed at our lovers,
But your grin lied to me, telling me you were happ
She smells like flowersThe young boy just wanted to hold her tight
As he felt her amber hair flutter about in the breeze
Looks scattered timidly, unrestrained heartbeats faded away
This young adventurer finally found the fragrance he'd die for.
Putrid seas of despair became Twilight's holdings
Here comes victorious Dawn, hammering her flowered flag into
The possessed boy's skull. This new Freedom he was blessed,
Kept running through his mind as if he has lived thousands of lives.
He craved her all night long, a fellow bottle in hand
Waiting made his night last longer than eternal Oblivion
Howling as a lost soul, until he smells her again,
The shy boy was reeked of youth's insouciance,
On his fresh field
Eden EternalIn a world where the chatter doesn't cease,
and claps for the hollow silence
I cling to the voice in my head,
the one I don't wish to lose.
In my wounded city,
the scents of spices and copper,
lingers in the old markets,
along with the shadowy figures
of merchants and people,
that no longer tread these roads.
The mad man who once sang
words that were long disowned,
rode a black horse, and set fire
to the golden wheat field he called home.
In my city, the one that now runs red with blood,
I wake to scorching bullets,
and tank barrels aimed at my chest,
every single day, and every morning,
I promise myself this is the last day,
we'll have to endure war,
but the sunset never draws near.
The story teller has gone insane
and we're still waiting for his tale to end,
but he set fire to his books
and coated his stories in ash,
he threw at the wind.
A thousand nights went along,
people marched into darkness,
holding on to matchboxes that threatened to blow,
and yet we escaped w
If I CouldIf I could,
I'd climb over the walls of fate,
pick your days one by one,
make sure they're filled
with happiness and joy.
If I could,
I'd go to the farthest shrine.
The top of the highest mountain,
and steal two clouds out of heaven
only to place them as pillows under your head.
If I could,
I'd fill your bed with rose petals,
break a thousand bottles of perfume,
and offer you a small jar that holds
the scent of earth after the first rain.
It's as simple as such,
my gifts will never be
in the hands of another,
For you're the one I call love.
EndlessThe darkness matches your eyes,
Is it too much of an unfair accusation?
Or a bit too sad?
Perhaps it's a little too certain,
but I can't seem to care.
The kindness of your poems stirs
too many feelings I once buried,
an endless hunger, an exhaustion
that forced me to drop my jaded rings,
and lose the rose I once planted in my heart.
I offered you a field of bread,
soft pillows, and barely survived
the stomping horses that dragged
carriages of almonds to your feet
instead of running to the far edges of the world.
Spill your answers into me,
I still can't get myself to care,
whatever you say has lost its meaning,
I no longer know what's lie and what's the truth.
A wall stands between us now,
and darkness goes well with candles and wine,
but still a perfect match for the look in your eyes.
I know you're scrambling a reply, but
I know it's just as scattered as your shadows,
we no longer have a light.
I breathe, you breathe.
I blow, you blow.
I toss left and right, you toss ten
It was once called homeWhen an old man bends,
and picks a crust of bread,
kisses it, then feeds it to a dove.
You can't help but wonder,
if bread is now more sacred than blood.
When darkness rides down the road,
and you're stopped by a dozen barricades
so a soldier with a gun,
would confirm your innocence.
They did search me too,
but didn't find a home in my bag.
In a city where war is a street away,
yet everyone is breathing death
you remember when you lost a few marks,
because you wrote that the creatures in the sea,
also feed on the dead as much as on the living.
If only you can see that teacher again,
he'd give you those marks and cry.
When the market is still bustling with life,
socks, and food, cigarettes and hidden agents,
and a few other checkpoints with guns,
the tissue you use to wipe your tears,
might be the next bomb that
starts a downpour of blood.
In my city everyone has aged,
maybe thirty or forty years at a time.
It hasn't been so long,
but right now it's a faraway dream.
A land w
A void within meAlone on this inhospitable night, once again
I let my memories guide my lost steps,
Wandering amid the ghosts of my past.
As I walk along the quay,
I stare at the feeble Seine flowing:
She's dying by the street lamps' hands
While the whole city asphyxiates.
Reflecting my own lack of humanity
Over the river's lighted surface,
Griefs come and go at the water's rhythm.
Once again, on this breathtaking night,
My feelings are sealed and my chest hollow.
Purple rain, chills of cold.... Or regret? I crave
My musical drug, my remaining salvation,
Spreading a sweet poison within me and
Eroding the remaining happiness I still have.
I plug my headphones...
A grin of relief appears on my weary face,
I flee to lenient lands, where a familiar Angel tucks me in.
These notes of violin split the immutable silence,
Fill the hole in, lit a bonfire to my soul.
This mermaid sings my dreams to me,
The BookRead the book,
Of a thousand souls,
The gatekeepers book,
The keeper of the toll.
He reads your name,
From subliminal verses,
Brings forth your shame,
He must have rehearsed this.
He speaks with a tongue,
Lined with silver,
Whether old or young,
You will surely shiver.
Haunted(English version below)
Mes rêves me parlent encore de toi,
Sous une pluie battante où ces lames s'écrasent contre moi,
Chaque goutte m'est plus douloureuse que la précédente.
En hurlant au désespoir, Solitude me contemple et compatit.
Seule, je me noie
Dans ces marécages sonores où ton nom résonne,
Asphyxiée par ma propre respiration, dans un murmure
Mes poumons se remplissent de ce manque.
Cette corde du désespoir à laquelle je suis pendue
Cédera bientôt sous le poids de mes tourments
Permettant à mon esprit de prendre son triste envol.
Un champ fleuri écorché vif dans la fleur de l'âge,
Mon âme m'est arrachée comme les racines du vieux chêne.
Je ne suis qu'une carcasse vide voguant sur l'océan de la dépression
Où j'ai l'impression que même le vent souffle ton nom.
My dreams are still talking to me about you,
Ode to the wilted CamelliaIt all began with a smile...
The freshly awaken Camellia, morning's wonder
Highlighted even on a rubies' field
She was her own spring sun ; a mellifluous beauty
The gullible Camellia, tricked by this charming rose
Got stung to the blood, cleaned out of her inner light.
Another victim of this world's rottenness
The saddening outcome of a barbaric act.
The daughter of Nature got fouled
Reeked of the rose's stench
Acid rain poured on this virgin sprout
And lost her blossom forever
She dreams of nightmares, craves forgetfulness
Floods of tears under the bloody moon
Her desperate and heartbreaking screams
shatter the icy silence of the Withering Night.
Eternity may not be long enough
For the Camellia to shed all her sorrow -
Oh ruthless Scythe!
You sent to the skies such a pretty Camellia.
...It all ended with a bullet.
FlamesThere are flames where
his head should be -
a poem left in the fireplace,
a dressing gown, a pipe,
forty pieces of silver.
This man promised you a winter
so warm and bountiful
spring would be ashamed.
He called you by name -
not the one that father knew
shoved under his bible.
But the one left behind
in the branches,
in the bucket of brambles,
and the columbines
buried at your feet.
Stones on the battlefield,
surrender in the grass.
What did his face
even look like behind the curtain,
counting those coins
and loosening the damp earth
from your shoes?
Slivers of light(French version below)
The most dreadful winter of my life came.
I abandoned the idea of a blossoming future,
Fled the misery of my own motherland,
For a woman I have far too often dreamt of.
Among the singing buds of the Shinto shrine
A white plum caresses my back,
Its petals lull me, my eyes are sealed, sweet reverie,
A convent of grass
The junk of my thoughts
Send me to Amaterasu.
Blushing Lotus, enticing Lilacs, panting Azaleas,
So many mistresses!
Enough perfumes to be drunk from them.
Why, my promise, have I been waiting so long to join you?
Your hair like Sakura flowers
Your laughters sound like Shamisen.
Over the pond, a dragonfly sits down and begins to dream
Ma muse aveugle(English version below)
Elle laisse à mi-chemin la froide brume dans les ténèbres épais,
Disparue malicieusement en catimini derrière un nuage d'engelures
Elle passe, s'arrête et se fige dans cette toile pleine de tristesse ;
M’apparaissant lors de mes nuits glaciales assombries par le chagrin.
Vêtue de ta robe d'albâtre que mes tourments essaient de salir
Radieuse en ce soir dont tu as drainé toute lumière, tu représentes
La quintessence de la beauté éternelle, l'unique perle du ciel,
Vestige de mes vies inachevées.
L'Attente tisse ses gelures au fil de nos jours trop long
De ses membres décrépits, sans fin. La Lune, ma muse...
Ton éclat se meurt dans les méandres de notre souffrance,
Sur ton visage de marbre, une expression figée depuis des siècles
Un sourire se cache-t-il derrière tes cicatrices ?
Ensemble, nous attendons patiemme
Ta voix(English version below)
Au loin, ta silhouette s'efface de plus en plus sur l'ardoise de ma mémoire. Comme soufflée par le vent assassin, dans un nuage de craie.
Des années passent et le temps, ce bourreau, fait gentiment son office. De quelle couleur étaient tes yeux, tes cheveux, tes joues ? Je m'en vais présenter mes respects à toi, mon ami que j'ai oublié et dont seule la voix reste encore.
Perdue sur cette allée que je redoute, j'ébrèche chaque chêne comme pour partager ma souffrance. Tremblante de chagrin, chutant à chaque pas ; j'appréhende comme toujours ce funeste face-à-face. Ma poitrine se déchire sous les coups de l'Angoisse, impériale et immuable. Et parmi les corbeaux haut perchés, je rampe péniblement jusqu'à toi, là où ta voix me guidera.
...Le silence sourd émanant de ta tombe est le seul son qui parvient