Exhuastion

By Yours Truly

Cartoonish Self-Potrait

By Yours Truly

The Unseen

Photograph by Jenifer
Editted by yours truly.

The skies are blue, the sun is shining
In the middle of a green beautiful valley, I am
Observing the surroundings, feeling the breeze
Herds of sheeps grazing down the valley
And around me, lil' butterflies flying

Cottonwooly clouds pinned up high
Brings me peace within as I look from below
I close my eyes and drift
Drift far, far away into my world
Light flashes and I hear wind howling
Memories that have came to past re-enact
Ups and downs, I come to remember

As I drift further away
I get lost
Lost in my thoughts
Thoughts about life, death
Thoughts about religion
Thoughts about love
Thoughts about beauty
Thoughts about friendship
Thoughts about expression
Thoughts abo....

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

I open my eyes
The skies are dark
The clouds are red
The grass is black
Standing before me, a man cloaked in shadows
In his hands, he holds a spear
He reaches for me and stabs me in the chest
I scream in pai... wait
I feel no pain but instead
This void, this emptiness
Unexplainable

Everything seems meaningless
Everything doesn't seem to matter
Some part of me, deep down inside
Has passed away. Has died.
The cloaked man looks me in the eye
And mutters words which I cannot hear but understand
He mutters silence for somehow
He has silenced me
Suddenly, the sounding of the seventh trumpet is heard
He pulls the spear out of my chest and scurries away quickly

I fall onto the ground



Motionless.



And as each second passes
I feel the void within disintergrating into ashes
And coming out of my rear as gas
Standing up, I brush off the dirt on my shirt
I look up and smile as I watch
The clouds turn white
The skies turn blue
And below me, the grass turns green
Everything seems so beautiful, so peaceful once again

In the distance, I see
The cloaked man turning back
And looking me straight in the eye
"I'll be back..." he says.
And disappears.


I'm afraid, so afraid
For I know he isn't lying.
He will be back





But I don't know when

Hatredamned

You hold the key
To unleashing the devil in me
That blood red lil' fella
Who holds a 3-headed spear in hand
Waiting to tear you apart
To fry your organs in molten lava
To crucify you on the cross of love

Look into my eyes
Into the red fiery fires within
Do you see an angel
With scars all over her arms
Do you see an angel
Thats surrounded by butterflies
Protected by them
Loved by them

You do... Don't you?
Are you wondering
Why these horns are here on my head?
You are the reason
You created them
The horns of hate and hurt
Are you wondering
Why the butterflies are there?
I am the reason
I created them
The butterflies of love and comfort

RINGGGGGGG RINGGGGGGGG

Thats your train
Go catch it
Don't forget your ticket...

ALL ABOARD!







Chooo chooo...










Chooo chooo...












BAM BAM BOOM











...













"This is your captain and I am sorry to inform you that the train has broken down. Our current location is Hell and the amount of time needed for the train to be up and running again will be approximately eternity. Thank you."

mirror, mirror

until twelve
i could believe in you
believe i was part of you
miming. Dancing. funny or sad
i loved you every day

at sixteen, sixteen
i chose to make my character
eyes blue. Cheeks blushed. lips pink
i began to doubt you

twenty, twenty
i saw in others
what i couldn't find in you

mirror, mirror
you're a liar

By Singaporean poet, Chung Yee Chong

Enter.

You're walking along on a fine sunny morning when you spot a path that leads into the woods. The path is dark but sprinkled with rainbow glitter dust. You decide to walk down the path, deeper and deeper you go. Soon after, you stumble upon a tree. The tree wasn't any ordinary tree. There was a house built on the tree and there were black and white lights blooming out of the windows, lights of creativity and inspiration. Something is calling you to climb up the ladder that leads to it. You start climbing up the ladder and soon you're at the door. You knock and a faceless figure with long wavy hair who's dressed in clothes that changes colours every few seconds answers the door. He invites you in.

"Hello, dickhead. *sniggers* By entering my Tree House, you have entered my artistic world. A world of free expression where there are no limitations and rules. The world within me where ideas, dreams, visualizations and imagination is created and turned into reality. This world is the Tree House, which you are in right now." He says.

"Make yourself at home."