Time is running out


The Foreign Land

To step on a foreign land
To see the world beyond my own
You brought me to places
I had never thought of going

Before I step on a foreign land
I shall empty myself
To forget who I thought I knew I was
and let the inner soul immersed

But for now that self is in another place
A place only dawn could open

You might have another reason to carry
And so do I
but getting in your way
is the last thing I want

To step on a foreign land,
to be reckless
or to be cautious

Only until we arrive
the foreign land holds the answer

Prove Me Wrong

Easy for you to judge
When all you do is stand in the corner
and watch

Asking us to do much
only to see frustrations go down the drain

Not that you encourage us to be better
but to be a version of your greater imagination

Prove me wrong, you said

How is it fair?
that to prove is only to validate the imagination?

How is it fair?
that if you can’t see means
neither can anybody else?

I don’t know how do you do it
Putting the mean and the critical in the same shoes

Prove me wrong, you said

I will
and when I do, I will thank you

The Next 1 Month

Thank you for showing me what it means
to a follow a so-called passion
for the people along the way I’ve met
that has drawn me closer
or further
to that passion that once I knew

Not that it is now gone
but there are regrets arise
from the ashes of decisions

I think it’s true what they said
that the things worth fighting for
are the ones that are hard to get

So, thank you
for better and for worse
of what you’ve made me become

and to make me realize
that there’s no such thing such a stepping stone

and the real passion you know deep within
will keep calling you
for as long as it’s there
because for as little as you know
it is the part of you
that you yourself would never know

No Name

I don’t for how long have you been there
Crushing, deceiving, hanging
in the back of my head
like a bird that finds its home

I don’t know what’s your intention to come
when all you do is bringing me down
together with your own sound
why can’t you let me be what I can be

I don’t know your name though I’ve guessed
I don’t know if I want to know your name either
The young souls see you as a romantic
But I find you demonic

Despite me knowing your name
You painted black the red that used to lie within
I want to call you names,
but I don’t want romance