Laying underneath the shades of cold
I, myself, ran out of gold
Saying words out of nowhere
Tale of a poet, died, left no single prayer
Epiphanic sequence I quite recall
Nauseous, realizing I was the fool in fable
Idealistic body found by the same soul
Nuts if I beg to end it all
Got each clue, boxed to compel the call

Hereby he conduct the postmortem
Eulogized as nothing to show ’em
All of the saboteurs, moaning and grinning
Raising their voices — caused killing
Ivy outgrew, covered and itching
No one heard him ’til one evening
Gained nothing; lost everything — thereupon never ending

Sweetest merch,
from the start I live to search
thought this time it may go deeper than trench.
The pain and romance, you brought to forge
the urge — forced me to purge.

Passed by me
15th of May, it was sunny
seconds yet it felt twelvemonth — believe me,
how you read me easily and through
when I thought I'd be hard thorough.

Asking the God's above why couldn’t we
if plotted in our destiny, weren't we meant to be?
How for every time with you I feel sorry
as I wrote this poem, unnecessarily
like an asymptote, no matter how close they meet.

Changed your name to hide the surge
realizing — it became a one-sided page to indulge
I couldn’t run to places I’d never been,
if only I could — I would have as I should have been
you deserve better than a man who’s bitter.

My dearest, hinge
even if against the church
I got the perfect vision — I'm yours to be
but you will never be mine; forever to bury
forevermore carved in each of my artery.

House has been always a home
where he lives and love for so long
the first of the fourth
and the thirst to his worth.

The perfect imperfection
get on his nerves for assertion
yet he is an orthodox
passing like a paradox.

Feeling the blues never felt blue
for he embrace the beauty of truth.
Litany of thoughts stuck in brain, burrowed
for what he sees on stained glass window

No one knows who he really is
and everyone knows what they missed.

Oh, to see you again in my eyes
I still miss even the white lies.
Made me questioned my worth
pretending everything’s my fault.

You are now strange and cold,
just happened, uncontrolled.
I used to think that fire can also be embraced
the longer you hold, leaving a trace.

Is it really hard to say “sorry,”?
you shattered, your accountability.
Maybe I said it first —
you just haven’t heard — all the curse for worst.

Justified Actions Caused Killings