Sunday, May 3, 2009


Creativity is only skin deep.

Monday, April 20, 2009


Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Play your role

Sunday, March 22, 2009


the wonders those small beans do ...
the worlds they make u see...
and the things they make u forget...
ahhh..... caffeine


In my den, I wait,
Wait for the likes of thee.
In my heart , I weap,
I weap as thee lay asleep
Asleep in front of me.
In my eyes, I've fear
Fear of losing thy soul.
The soul that is thy beauty,
And that beauty belongs to me.
One night as thee came to me,
In moods and swings of joy.
That night was the night of sorrow,
The sorrow that is to be...
Feeling the warmth of thy soft skin,
Whispering the pain in thy senses.
Holding thy slender back,
Stabbing with blows of love
Only love... and nothing more.
Until there was none...
No life in thee, and nothing more...
To this day i weap.
I weap for the horrid night,
I weap for thee,
I weap for the beauty that I now own.

The Silent Hill

Silent Hill

The world we see,
is a silent hill.

The meanest, creepiest
and the infectius pill

Look around you, what do you see?
its only what you want to see.

The creatures of the dark,
lurking with us, slurping on our officious blood.

Sucking every pint, making us hollow
only to allow a refill over the night.

The rabbid dogs, the fierce wolves
our segmented body, their dessert with quilts.

From dawn till dusk, they feast on us
but on the silent day, the recant day.

The day we would lie seven feet deep,
under this earth, under their feet.

That would be the end of the Silent Hill,
then would expire this infectious pill.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

A visit to the memory lane

A visit to the memory lane

The same old trees,
their same old breeze.

The lifeless swing,
listening to the birds sing.

The seeds we once sowed,
now, in full bloom they showed.

The holy talisman,
still hanging there at the door.

All this and more,
still there in the old memory lane.

Wishing to relive every moment again,
wishing to see the same old smiles.

The purest of hearts ,
and the innocence of eyes.

The love of life,
the treasures of that time .

All this and more,
still there in the old memory lane.