Questions...

What happens when light stops moving?
What darkness lies behind it?
What energy is lost when movement is gone?
Is potential given away when inertia is put to a halt?

What do you see when photons refuse to budge?
When your eyes no longer receive the input they so freely now indulge.
How do you see, when the energy that makes movements and change grinds to a halt?

Does darkness creep in?
Will all life cease without light?
Or perhaps it will just simply change?
Maybe sight will still remain even without it?

Do we even depend on light at all?
When it stops, can we continue to exist?
Will all light grind to a slow and steady halt one day?
Will days even exist without it?

Questions...Questions...Questions...

In One Night

In one night
Under pale moonlight
You caught my heart
With the tears in your eyes

What I then felt
I'd never forget
T'was a love I never knew
T'was a care I had only for you

When our hands met
After stories shared
When the end was met
But one regret, I had

Now much of me is lost
Empty when you're not there
How'd I live
When you weren't by me?

Every hug we share
Ever touch we spare
Burns in my mind
A memory I could never forget

All the songs you sing
With the times you prick my strings
You helped me soar
On the wings of a dream

Your smell lingers
Your words echo
Everything you do
Imprints in my soul

There is no doubt
You are my sunshine
My beautiful angel
The one I want for life

But only, for a night...

The Important And The Not

Protein: A word whose etymology leads back to the ancient Greek word "Prota".

"Prota" meaning "of primary importance".

They are the builders and catalysts. The movers and shakers of the realm of evolution. The pillars of the roof of life.

Proteins are the drones born from genes. They are responsible for reading and acting out the scripts of life written and mapped out within the long chains of genes.

Are proteins important in the building of life?

Are they of prime importance?

Can they still function without the instructions of DNA and genes?

If something of primary importance is reliant upon something else- as is the case for proteins- is it still the prime determining factor?

Or does it become secondary in nature?

The Druid - #2

The wolf's howl echoed into the night, finally reaching the intended ears of its master. Its call was one tinged with fear and despair.

The air hung heavy with a dark ominous gloom that seeped down to the bones, companied by the hellish red glow of the moon. All of it reflecting the evil scent of blood that seemed to permeate the world.

Another howl.

He snapped out of his dreamlike trance. The elf stood up on his perch, raising his ears to the call of his faithful companion. "I hear you dear friend."

He leapt off the boulder down onto the clearing and sped off into the trees.

Indeed something was afoot. A deafening silence suffocated the air. Neither frog nor cricket chirped. Owls did not hoot and the trees did not whisper. The only sound that broke the deathly quiet was the incessant howling of the wolf.

He sped through the trees silent as shadow and swift as a hawk. The call of the wild beckoned. The woods of Vilsrough was in danger.

"Wait for me dear friend. I'm almost there."

He pulled out his holy symbol and chanted prayers to the lady of the woods. The symbol glowed a bright green, streaked with silver. The glow intensified to a brilliant white as his prayer ended.

He leapt into the trunk of a huge oak tree, disappearing into a magical portal. Upon the tree bark, was left a slight rippling mark. All that remained of his presence.

The wolf went silent as it sensed its master's approach. It loped down to a tree close by, circling around the tree impatiently.

He finally stepped out of the tree, leaving upon its bark rippling marks. The only sign of his spell.

The wolf snarled and stared up to the north, its nose scrunged and the hairs on its neck standing on ends. The elven druid's gaze followed. Miles away, dark clouds loomed.

"Something wicked this way comes. Warn our brothers dear friend. I see darkness approaching." The elf's eyes glazed over and silvery green glows enveloped him. Bones cracked and limbs contorted with loud sickly crunches as he slowly transformed.

Within moments a wolf stood proud where once was an elf. He grunted and set off at a run northwards. Meanwhile, his companion turned back and disappeared into the woods: Off to warn the denizens of the jungle.

<#1< >>#3

As it should be

Sometimes I'm unfeeling
Or a little slow to understand
I know I'm not the coolest man
You'll ever have for a boyfriend

I hope you know though
That I really care
Even if another's there
To take my place when I'm unaware

I may be daft
To your worldly games
Buying in to all your claims
Deep down I know my dream's in flames

God alone knows how much you've hurt me. Only the rain could count my tears. You'll never understand though, cause you won't let me near. I gave you my fragile heart and you've just dropped it like a brick. It's okay. I'll just nurse my bleeding wounds all on my own.

As it should be. . .

Lies.

How do you differentiate truth from lies?

A lie is an untruthful statement made to someone else with the intention to deceive. To lie is to say something one believes to be false with the intention that it be taken for the truth by someone else. - taken from www.Wikipedia.org

They say you could tell when someone is lying to you. Be it shifty eyes, a fake smile, limited hand gestures and other such things.

How true is that?

Common perceived signs of deception include:

-Lack of physical expressions with limb movements that tend to be close to the body and consuming less space

-Avoidance of eye contact

-Hands touching the face, throat and mouth repeatedly.Not to mention constant scratching of the nose or behind the ear

-Gestures/expressions that contradict what's been said

-Delayed and unnatural emotional reactions

-Using humor or sarcasm to avoid a subject


Can any of these signs be used?

Does lying invoke so much discomfort?

Perhaps not for all of us. So how do you tell when someone's lying to you?

How do you find the truth?

The difference?

If tears were made of fire
And they could burn you blind
I've lost my sight
And now I'm no longer fine

If love was all it took
To make you cry
It's passing is all I need
Just about enough to make me die

If you was all I asked
For life to be fulfilled
Why is it when you've come and gone
I feel like I've been killed?

Love you, hate you. What's the difference?
Both hurts.

Journey of an Answer

Is love worth the tears?
Can pain become an addiction?
Are bonds worth the trust
If you know in time they're bound to rust?

Why lie and cheat?
Need truth be hidden or twist?
Must you know anything at all
When lies are lovelier than the truths you found?

When does compassion break?
Is there a time when love turns to hate?
The fine lines between lovers
Can also be the deepest of depressions.

Why keep on searching?
What motivates our constant seeking?
If all you need is God
Why's companionship so well sought out for?

As harrowing as life can be
Many of us cling to it.
Why is this so?
Is there beauty?

Or is fear the grounding factor?
Is love the source of life?
Without it will we die?
Must we live with a smile?

Could death with a grin be defiled?
Is there bravery in this world?
Where does cowardice lead to?
Is knowledge all that matters?

Does control give you happiness?
Find the strength to live
Yet even if you do, will you find bliss?
Every question's nightmare

Is an answer that leads nowhere...

Where does my answer lead?

The Anthill

Would you feel guilty if you flattened an anthill?

Small insignificant lives. Ones that can in no way affect our existence. Do we ever give a care for them?

Mankind lives in a world where the only thing that matters to him is whatever affects him directly and lives within his monkey-sphere.

Why should he care if a couple of ants die? Why should it matter to him if a bunch of ants lose their homes? Absolutely no reason for him to give a care at all.

Yet, when you think back on it, even ants are alive too. Aren't they? They live breath and eat.

Flash back to the times of Prophet Solomon. Gifted with the ability to speak to all of God's creations be they man, beasts or Jinns. "At length when they came to a (lowly)Valley of ants, one of the ants said,'O ye ants, get into your habitations lest Sulaiman and his hosts crush you(underfoot) without knowing it.'
So he smiled, amused at her speech: And he said,'O my Lord! So order me that I may be grateful for Thy favours, which Thou hast bestowed on me and on my parents, and that I may work the righteousness that will please Thee and admit me, by Thy Grace, to the ranks of Thy righteous servants.'" - Al - Quran

Even the smallest deeds of mercy shines bright in the eyes of God and the rest of His creations.

The tiniest of God's creations exist among us. They may seem but mindless drones to us, but tales of the Prophet Solomon says otherwise.

Which are we to believe? Are ants mere mechanations of organic form? Are they alive with thought and meotions?

Ever the merciful and just; Prophet Solomon spared the lives of these tiny little critters from the crushing feet of his marching army.

Would we, mere ordinary men go to such great lengths for mere ants? Or would we rather toy with them and torture their miniature lives?

So what if they suffer? Does it make a difference to us? Do we care?

Theirs may be lives that mean little to some of us. Question is, are there any lives that mean a thing to us besides our own?

Look at that ant hill. Does it make you feel sorry for God's tiniest of servants?

Change not

One thing
If I had to ask
I want you to remember
Only one thing

Not an object
Not a word
Not just a person
Just one thing

I want you to know
Neither us
Nor them
Nor we

Just that one
No more
Simply that
One simple thing

That isn't love
Which isn't faith
Not even power
Or grace

Just one thing
Which is dear
The one and only
I'll hold near

Just you my dear

Rain

Dear friend of mine. It's good to see you again.

***

Yes. Yes. It's been quite some time since we last met. How have you been?

***

Haha. You always weere quite the poet.

***

Oh me? I've been fine.

***

Oh? Nah. Nothing's on my mind. Just the usual.

***

Okok. Haha. I never could hide any secrets from you.

***

Haha. Indeed. And a dear friend you are.

***

Yes. I know. I could always turn to you. God knows how you do it, but you always seem to understand. Sometimes I wish I could do more for you.

***

Yeah well, you always came when I needed a shoulder to cry on. You always knew the right words to say to calm me down.

***

But you're the only one who'd shed a thousand tears for each of mine. You don't know how much that means to me.

***

Come now dear friend, I hear your every whisper of encouragement.

***

Really I do.

***

Though the sun isn't always with us, your presence is always welcome dear friend.

***

I should be the one thanking you really.

***

Not for the things you do. You being there is more than enough for me really.

***

But of course.

***

I'm addicted to you. You always manage to calm me down when my heart is in turmoil.

***

Yeah. I suppose so.

***

Haha. Once more, you've read my mind.

***

You know, sometimes, I wish that you'd never have to leave.

***

No matter. I don't mind the cold that accompanies us.

***

No. Your touch isn't at all cold. It is a most soothing touch upon my skin.

***

Oh. You have to leave already? Ok then dear friend. I'll see you again when I see you again.

***

No. I like you the way you are. No man or woman could ever understand me the way you do. Stay the same dear friend. Stay the same...

The two points in a singularity

The two points in a singularity mark the beginning and the end. The steps in between matter naught for no matter where they go, they will always end up in the same spot. The singularity is a journey that folds in upon itself.

All things begin from a single point. They drop down from the heavens upon a single ray of light. Distance and time is then created upon the bleak background of singularity. A kind of variety born from unity.

A point that cannot be changed. A single point that builds upon itself. The singularity is the source of time and space. It is the mother of endlessness and limitless place. It marks creation as well as destruction. It is the state of all things complete and ended. Something independent.

What is the correspondence of a singularity?

How much space can a single point generate? How much distance can a journey cover when it all revolves around the same point?

Can you calculate the space in a single dot? Or find its point of origin? Imagine the entire universe compressed into a single speck. How can something so small unfurl so vast? Or did it even unfurl at all?

Are we merely trapped in one of the many invisible, intangible loops of a journey made upon a single dot?

The two points in a singularity are one and the same. Their pseudoexistence marks the beginning and the end of a cycle. They are the creation of the human mind that brings into being time, space and change.

Could we find peace without them?

Nova

There once was a child
Born from the sun
Youth set aflame
Amid the roaring fires of time

Stood he did proudly
Chest apuff in glory
To none would he bow
Stranded by ego unsavory

Unknowingly he consumed
Rotting away in fumes
Yet none saw him fading
In invisible shadows of his making

For like stars from whence he came
He was deteriorating just the same
A mortal flash of limited quantity
Approaching death in every tick

We all shine and bathe in the light of our own lives. Carry our hands high trying to impress those around us with brilliance only we could possibly emanate before our time is up. Yet the harder we strive, the bigger the obstacles that loom before our path. And the more we strain to achieve our dreams, the closer we bring ourselves to the brink of uncertainty. But pride keeps us from falling. Our self-induced strength of certainty keeps us moving forwards. All the pan in the world could not stop us unless the source of our pride and ego is stomped out first.

And thus we've built for each and every person a bubble. Looking outwards in each individual light, and living a life haunted by shadows born off the essence of our lives.

Time will pass us by, and the bubbles we build will shrink bit by bit, till the end.

And all we can do is merely wear out the storm till we arrive at an ending, eating away at ourselves. Fighting a lonely battle at our own expensce. Combatting self-insecurities while trying to shine like a supernova.

Why?

Sincerity

It is dangerous to be sincere unless you are also stupid - George Bernard Show

A rare trait as it is, is sincerity a blessing or a curse?

Let us begin with the question of what sincerity is. What is sincerity?

Sincerity: Honesty. Genuine and lacking pretence.

But Man is a pretentius creature. Always living with at the very least a small degree of reproachable untruth.

There is always a dark secret you would wish to hide from the rest of the world. What would it be like for the world to know everything about you?

Every person in his/her right mind would refrain from sharing all their innermost secrets with the world. Who would be stupid enough to do such a thing?

If we took the time to stop and think how many of the secrets we have are there worth keeping and why?

Pause and think...

What would you be willing to reveal to them?

Dig up all that old dirt you keep in the closet. Your forgotten secrets and untold mistakes.

Had you been sincere and unpretentious; Had you not hidden any truths whatsoever, what would happen? My my. So many secrets.

Could you choose the level of sincerity at which you present yourself? Should you do so?

Then again, there are too different forms of sincerity.

Being true to your heart, your mind and your soul. Not to mention to the people around you.

Following your feelings. Listening to your instincts and emotions. Staying true to what you want. Had you done all the things you wanted to do with unbridled abandon, would that not be a true form of sincerity? Yes. Doing what you like when you feel like it. Falling in and out of love at your heart's whim. Making decisions based upon thoughts a fleeting. Following your gut instincts and morals. Not a care in the world beyound what you feel. No need for traditions, empathy or minding your manners and such. Just say what you feel.

Hate someone? Say it. In love with another? Say it.

Spilling out with all sincerity every single bit of truth that is in your heart. Is that what you would call a virtue? Or is it a curse?

Forget Me

It's as though all i could do
Was dream of you.
My nights and days spent
In déjà vu.

The hours, they never seem to end
Just ticking away.
And I find myself merely wishing
That you would stay.

God forbid our time
Pass us by.
I could never imagine living
Without you by my side.

Yet I know how empty
This dream is.
Watching you toy with me
In my bliss.

But my heart is too
Soft for you.
Never shouting and always hoping
These silent pleas will break through.

There you go again skitting
Away on my doubts.
There you go again hiding
Among the clouds.

My silent days and nights
Just pass me.
Watching you fly away
A bird so free.

Oh how easily you forget me.

Angels among us

There are those among us who hide in the shadows, unnoticed. Friends whose love bring bliss at times of great need. Whose support brought us to greater heights. Were these guardians given due thanks? Or did we forget them amid our hustle and bustle of everyday life?

It is easy to overlook silence. Sad to say the best of friends you could possibly hope for never ask for much. They'd shelter you under their wing and watch you grow.

What happens when you forget these invisible angels? Will you notice them when they're gone?

Happiness

What is happiness? Can it be forgotten? How do you know if it is what you remember? How do you tell if it is or isn't there?

Laughters and smiles usually trail it. Tears sometimes accompany it. The elation when someone is drowning in it, is indescribable. Yet, what really brings about happiness varies greatly from person to person.

How do you define so broad a term? Is there any way to narrow down to one specific source of happiness which everyone can agree on?

Hmmm...

Is it...


Satisfaction?

Would satisfaction make you happy? If you were fully satisfied with the way things are in your life, could you live through to the end with a smile upon your face?

Could you do the same if you weren't satisfied with your life?

Then again, are smiles and laughter a good measurement for joy? Somehow I doubt so. Hmmm...

Psychological or emotional? Spiritual or mental? Is it meta-physical? Or perhaps its source is neurological? Maybe divine? Hmmm...

How do I understand this thing? This happiness?

Haha. One thing's for sure, I barely know this one emotion that so many people are absolutely fond of. Now how can that be so? Hmmm...

Fifth of May

The date was fifth of May
A beautiful rose I met that day
At Tampines met for a very short walk
First time up close did we talk

There she was hair afray
No less lovely than a jay
A smile spread across her face

Bangles wrapped upon her wrist
Bands of black upon skin chocolatey sweet
Lovely she was to the eye
There was indeed no alibi

Garbed in black my scented rose
In ebony maybe but still she glows
After the meeting did feelings grow
As does your scent linger upon my nose

"Selekeh", that's what she said
Nonetheless to me she still looked great
Wonder did I how she must look
Dolled up with make up put

Her company did I enjoy
With our little jokes and little ploy
But fear I did for my princess
That my company was to her meaningless

And the day ended
With her friends she returned
My heart did mourn
That her presence is away and gone

I miss her

Shadow - Chapter 1

It Part 1

Sunrise marked the beginning of a brand new day.Fleeting songs of merry-making of the birds filled the forest air, coursing amid the gentle whispers of the trees and under the soft green glow of the forest canopy.

Yet deep under the peaceful surface of the world, within the millions of miles of underground tunnels and cavern networks thatspread out like the webbings of a giant arachnid under the surface of the forests of Arknia, there lurked an ancient, forgotten evil. One that hungered to devour the world above. One that wished to feed so desperately.

The beast longed to be free of the dank, cramped confusing halls of its prison. Eons it had spent searching for a way out, squeezing its way into every nook and cranny it could find. It had even resorted to clawing and digging into the walls in an attempt to escape. An act it would have deemed too lowly for one such as itself just mere ages ago.

But look at it now. Time had taken its toll on the monster. Once, a long long time ago, it had been a proud, intelligent all powerful lord over the realms above.

Now here it is, soiling its hands digging against cold hard earth trying to find escape. Crawling on hands and knees picking up whatever critters it came across upon the floor to feed on. Even scraping mould off the cavern walls at times when it could not find any nourishment within these lifeless caves.

Its hunger grew with each passing day. The endless need to devour all life was what kept it going. It hungered for food...It hungered for revenge...

to be continued...

Black

Color me black
Dark
Eerie
Empty


Color me black
Black to touch
Hear
And see


Color me black
Fill me
Drain me
As you please


Time and again
Bring back the plain
A single color
All and the same


A tinge of grey
With a pinch of blue
A match of every color
Mix of every hue


Color me black
Make me full
Flood me with nothing
Fill me with a hole


Color me black
Paint me bad
Most misunderstood
Color most crude


In the end
Only one request
Won't you please
Color me black

perfection

A tool of perfection in the hands of the unskilled could never shine as bright.

A paintbrush could only create beautiful images in the hands of an artist. A chisel could only craft great form in the hands of a sculptor.

Can a tool compensate for a man's lack of skill? Does a man's ability and potential rely on tools given to him?

All men are born and raise with different gifts. Different forms of tools. Some of us are blessed with the gift of gab. Others are born sharp of wit. Others still grow to be strong and athletic.

No two men are alike. No two people work in exactly the same way. A unique fingerprint mix of talent and skill for every man.

Some excell in fields that others could only dream of. Award a man a tool to work with; still all he can achieve will only be determined by his own ability and strength of spirit.

A blunt knife could still cut as well in the hands of an able user. A sharpened knife merely makes the act that much more elegant.

As such, the tools we have are merely gifts to enhance and sharpen the abilities and skills we already have in our grasp. An extention; merely upgrades.

Much of what we've been given in our lives down here are merely tools to make life on earth more bearable.

Intelligence, charm, strength, endurance, riches, friends, family, love, hate, discipline, teachings, belief, toys, knowledge...And the list goes on and on.

All things in our lives are tools. Tools with a purpose. Tools that can help us if we put them to good use.

You may be an artist gifted with a brush or a sculptor blessed in the use of the chisel. When you are given the tools of your trade, you will shine bright as the sun.

But what happens when they swap brush and chisel? Would they be able to put these gifts to good use? Can these tools achieve their ultimate potentials in the wrong hands? Can their users reach the peak of their performances?

Had you been given a tool you know not its use, could you somehow learn to utilise it?

Knowing beyond knowing

"The earth is full of signs for those who are certain. [51:20]
And within yourselves; Can't you see? [51:21] - Al-Quran

Knowledge. All that resides within our hearts and minds. Deep within our heart of hearts, all knowledge exists and deceit is totally dispelled.

How do you listen to its whispers amid the noise of thought?

The analytical mind is always screaming for attention. But it can only comprehend so much. What happens when it faces a truth that breaks away from its logic?

Knowledge flows and warps itself with the face of time. All things change. What is learnt can be unlearned and relearned. What's a truth today may become nothing more than a lie in the morrow.

The mind constantly tries to understand all things. But its knowledge only goes so far. It is above all things merely a vessel.

To know, you merely need to look deep within yourself.

The heart has eyes which the brain knows nothing of - Charles H. Perkhurst

Jaded

The years that pass
Silently waving to dancing grass
Bring to light freshness
Born at the edge of dusk

The motions of peace
Usher in eternal life's lease
Stretching every second
While bringing closer the end

The loop of life's cycle
That echoes every ripple
Muddles the brighter days
Wrapping the mind in plays

Fret not the future
That wallows in dreams past
Drown in nights
Under pale moonlight

Find yourself swimming
In nights blanket's clinging
Given the fall into freedom
Wouldn't you jump in?

Eternal tranquility awaits
Inches away from blindness'wake
Up in the sky
Where nothings lie

What are you looking for?
Nothing
What do you want?
Nothing

Nature embalms those who learn
Leaving a hust of wisdom
What have you become?
Nothing

Seclusion draws the day away
Flooded lights upon canvas clay
Too bright
Longing for the dark

Fall asleep upon clouds
And dream never of flight
Gather yourself in thought
And merge the day and night

Turn the world gray
Live not unless you see
Yet die not unless you are blind
Shut your eyes

The turmoil will be gone
And peace will reign
The day men stop caring
And live hoping to die again

And in the end
When sunrise comes
You find in that night
You have learned

Nothing

Speak speak speak....

After all is said and done, more is said than done - Aesop

Such is the need for mankind to say. For to speak is to bring his thoughts to being. Yet to speak of work is always easier than doing the work.

Much easier is it to advise than to hold true to that which you speak of. Plans you can make for every hour of every day. But plans hardly ever go the way you see them.

Be it due to circumstances within our control or otherwise, few things in this world ever goes the way we see or expect them to.

People always say more than they should but do less than they say. Few among us can escape this truth.

And knowing this, many among us still have the cheek to say so much. Why is that so?

Your promises you break every step of the way. All I can do is sit here and wait for the day your words ring true. I wish you'd speak no more. For the mute lies less and acts more. How sad. How truly sad.

Rain

The rain.

She comes. She goes. With her time flies. Nice, slow and easy. Her calm brings me peace. Her touch a cold comfort that chases away my loneliness. She's the one.

The rain.

She reads my thoughts. Echoes my feelings. Her tears that trickle down from the sky. What more could I ask for than a companion through darkness and the light?

That is the rain.

My companion in the day and the night. She is love. She is pain. She too is loss and gain. Dear dear rain. Unappreciated as you are, you're my one and only.

How could any of us live without her.

Rain. She comes and goes with the seaosons. She is material. She is undeniable. She is irresistable. She is the one that hides me from the sun. She too is my blanket in the night. All encompassing rain. Beloved rain. Incredible rain.

Rain...

Life....A short note

In the eternal cadence of life and death that flows endlessly through this limited time we're born with, rarely do we spot the harmonious balance that echoes in the chaos of the spinning of life's wheel.

Etched upon the threads of fate is the reflections of knowledge learnt and lost, neither of which ever registered upon the conscious thought of man but at the rarest moments of self-reflections.

Even then, the blind eyes of man rarely reaps the rewards that awaits his taking upon the lessons of the wind for he's too busy swimming upon the relentless tides of needs wrought of disillusions and dreams of good fortune and happy times.

Oh woe is man.

Names

Names. What power is there in a name? wherein lies the strength of a title?

A chair is named a chair because it can and is usually used to be sit upon. A table is an object upon which we place our food for dinner. A car is identified by its model, which corresponds with a specific make and design.

All things have a name. All names have their origins. But are names really something man gives to everything around them to make referring to these things easier? Or do they really have a higher purpose?

A label for everything that exists. A name for every single body, ideal and concept in existence. Is it a name that makes you who you are; or is it you who makes a name a part of you?

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot. Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part. Belonging to a man, O be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. - Shakespear

Of what importance is a name to you? Had you a name other than yours, what would you be?

I am my name; My name is me. Call me by naught other than what I am. For doing otherwise would be an insult.

Call not a dog a cat and name not a woman a man. Identity lies within a name. Form is given upon the utterance of a word.

Form is the strength of a name. And form too is its limitation.

All in the mind.

The quintessential key to happiness hides behind a myriad of different circumstances.

Recorded past and the promised future set the standards to be met before joy will bring itself to the present.

Yet two people leading similar lives with identical chronology may still present themselves with oddly different levels of happiness.

Is it just a matter of point of view?

How you see the world; Be it under a rainbow, sunshine or the dark of night. All that happiness needs is a warm smile and cheery disposition. True?

Think happy and be happy.

Joy is a state of mind. Elation is the end result of merely gaining what you think you want or need.

Ask for a dime and someone gives you a dollar. Wouldn't you be happy? Dream of a car and Dad buys you a Porsche. Wouldn't you be glad? Or win that all important competition you've been training all year round for. Can you imagine such joy?

So knowing exactly what you want would be knwoing just what will make you happy. But is that really the case?

Take awhile to ponder. What is it that will make you happy? What would that perfect life be like for you? What is your heaven?

Could anyone really find the answer to this? Is there such a thing as an achievable and incomparable joy? One that is soothing and everlasting?

Perhaps there is. But will you realise your happiness when it is there? Or will you be unaware of your state of happiness untill the day when sadness comes to consume it?

You have to keep asking yourself what your definition of joy would be. No doubt it is closely tied to what you care about and what life looks like to you. Search for that happiness that hides deep in the recluses of thought. Would you ever find it? Will you ever achieve that satisfaction?

Perhaps it's best to find satisfaction in what you already have. Such is an easier and more achievable objective. Rather than trying to find satisfaction by chasing after a dream of what may be your perfect life that you so greatly yearn for.

An ill-achieved dream will only give way to disappointment. Be thankful for what you have and happiness will be close at hand. Wouldn't you think so?

But how easy is it for you to be thankful for what you already have?

It's all in the mind.

Blessed or Cursed?

Fanaticism. A blessing or a curse?

Mankind has seen more than its fair share of zealots in its entire history. Such people are either celebrated, or cursed due to their overwhelming devotion to their beliefs.

Famous men such as Adolf Hitler, Osama Bin Laden, Vlad Tepes and other equally self-righteous leaders of their kind. Men whose ferocious demeanor and self-imbued pillars of strength and beliefs enable them to change the world.

They attempted to enfoce their points of views upon the rest of the world. These men; These leaders brought about change through their power of will and unwavering beliefs. Be it to religion(example being Osama) or the self (Adolf Hitler) and even moral traits (Vlad Tepes). Granted the changes they made were rather unpleasant or even down right gruesom to some. Yet these fanatical men were driven onwards by their wholehearted beliefs like rivers of molten lava spewing forth from the boiloing mouth of Krakatoa. Nothing short of death itself could staunch their movements.

They had faith on their side. They believed that they were right. And for their cause they would fight. Had they the right?

You decide.

Osama:

He incited a world-wide movement to go to war against the enemies of muslim men and women. In particular the U.S.A. He refused to give in to the lies as well as oppressive actions of the U.S.A against his country and people. Osama fought to free his people and bring forth the name of his country and religion. He wanted to prove hmself strong and capable. Not just that, the man believed he was fighting in the name of God. He termed it "Jihad". Or as christians would call it, a "crusade". With God on your side and goodness as your blade, how could you lose the war?

An overzealous man driven not only by faith but also vengeance. Am I right?

Vlad Tepes:

He was a man of unwavering moral backing. His word was law and his law was to be upheld at all costs.

No room was given for mistakes to be made by men and sin was punishable by death through impalement. Extreme? Perhaps. But such extremity also led to a greatly upheld sense of value and morality which few would dare to break.

Was he really doing too much and being too harsh? Or are we too soft and corrupt?

Adolf Hitler:

Great was his belief in the greatness of the Aryan race. He believed that the world itself belonged to the Germans. That they were deserving of all greatness.

This had led to the second world war. His fanatic belief in his country's righteousness and power led them to greatness and down in history. Of course, the cost of this was the lives of millions.

Or was it just greed and megalomania? Who's to know?

The zeal that these men as well as many others like them bring is enormous. And the changes they've wrought is equally astounding. Beyond that, these men were doing the right thing. Even when faced with overwhelming odds and not to mention disapproval from the majority around them, they stood. They stood firm and brought forth their brand of righteousness.

One which was rejected by the rest of the world.

Could you imagine having so much strength and faith in what you believe in? To have so little doubt in yourself or your belief that you become an impregnable force of change to last through the ages.

These men did. Were they blessed, or accursed?

Beautiful...

Beauty.

What is beautiful is pleasing to the eyes, pleasant to the touch and refreshing to the nose to smell.

That which brings a smile to your face and lights up your heart, is the beautiful.

The soft wafting scent of a rose caressing your skin. The barely audible sigh of the breeze flowing among its ich, vibrant petals. And the dance of the roses in their bright explosion of colors; Orange, red, yellow, white, lavender. All of them upon a carpet of green.

Isn't that just beautiful?

The reflection of the setting sun slowly sinking in the wide expanse of bright blue waters. Its golden orange glows setting your heart ablaze with a kind of indescribable peace and warmth. The soft luminous bellies of the clouds as the warm rays of the sun bounced off them, hypnotising you, lulling you to sleep.

Isn't it a beautiful dusk?

The sleek sensual curves of a woman. The way the candle light illumines her gyrating body and highlights her every move. How her hips sway you into a trance and her sultry succulent lips call out your name with such seductive softness. Her hair, flowing in volumnous waves down to her shoulders, bouncing slowly, softly. And how she bats her eyes at you, arousing all your deepest desires. And to top it all off, simply look into her deep blue eyes. How they seem to seep right into your sould and seize your heart, enrapturing you and trapping you in her thrall.

Wasn't all that just beautiful?

The pure sharp ring of steel that echoes in the night air as you draw a sword from its sheath. The crystalline sparkle of the smooth steel flat of the blade as the moonlight shines down upon it. Runic markings etched upon the blade with clear masterful craftsmanship beyond description. An air of noble greatness and superiority surrounds you as you wield this amazing creation of the blacksmith. The dense weight of steel that extends forth from your hands, a makr of commanding power, a source of ecstacy. And how snugly its handle fits into your hands, its leather binds a welcome cushion upon your grip.

The beautiful invention of medieval mankind.

The sleek aerodynamic curves of a car. Shining smooth paintjob gleaming as it swiftly streaks off into the sunset. Accompanying the passage of this marvel of modern engineering is the powerful constant purring of its thrity-two horsepower engine. You could hear those pistons pumping and the fan spinning as well as those gears running under the flaming red head of this chariot of the twentieth century. Such greatness. Such beauty.

After all that, let me ask you:

What is beautiful?

My heart

Sometimes you are not there

I look for you everywhere

Only to find your cold distant stare

And I ask myself, is this fair?



Pushed aside and replaced

Still I long to see your face

So I tried to remain in your grace

Straining to smile i my emotional haze



Yet you don't seem to care

You never have enough time to spare

Too busy with all your friends

And all your other working plans



Where am I in all of this?

Why leave me out to freeze?

Are you hoping to let me leave?

If not then give me some reprieve



Come back to me

Make things the way it used to be

Won't you set my heart free?

Please answer my pleas



Still only silence

Your love no longer holds its essence

All I feel is remembrance

A sticky melancholic cadence



Won't you come back?

Bring to me your smile

Chase away my pains

And never let me cry again



In silence we hurt. In absence we long. Sometimes we're noticed, sometimes we're not. In the end, the heart will know where it belongs. Listen to its tears and you'll find your answer. When you find where your heart lies, stay true to it.

Once..

A boy there once had been

An asian, malay, only a teen

Caught between tradition and trend

Tribulations abound this boy turning man



Dictations of religion did he follow

Yet just the same did the rules he forgo

Prayers he did for goodness and acceptance

Into drunken stupor did he also trance



This was a boy in search for love

From a family that was too busy to know

From friends who could not understand

As well as society that did not comprehend



Lo a rebel!

A brat to be despised

Behold societal trash

This boy should just die!



Words of those who understood not

They spoke of which they knew naught

Of them he held hatred as they did him

Disrespect them he did as they did him



None understood this lonely boy

Those who tried could only sympathise

He needed none of them

Accept he would none of them



Parents tried to reach for him

Elders pestered to guide him

Friends engaged to lure him

Who should he follow?



There once had been a boy

And a confused boy was he

Harm

Harm. Wherein lies the root of it? What hurts a man? What hurts a woman? What hurts you?

The definition of pain: Punishment.

What is it? What is the spark of it? Is it an ecstacy or a tearful cry for equilibium?

Pain, a necessity of change. No growth could amount to greatness without crashing into a form of destruction or another. The brighter the flames that burn, of greater volume will the ashes of change be.

Thus, pain is a goodness? Harm is good? No. That cannot be right. Harm is detrimental to the overall health and well-being. How could such negativity be a good?

Harm equals an end result to an action. A sword wound is harm to the human body. An exploded building foundation is harm to the structue. An oil spill harm to the environment.

That which is harmful ultimately weakens a person o entity. A cut on the arm renders it powerless. A battered foundation sends a building crumbling. An oil spill kills coral reefs and tears the ocean apart.

In other words, harm ultimately leads to destruction.

Is harm a necessity? Why do we hurt? Why must there be pain?

Picture perfection,. A world wherein all things retain their invulnerability to physical harm.

Imagine an invincible body immune to disease and hurts. What a blessing would that be?!

Free from pain, suffering and physical pain. Such freedom would be a blessing indeed, wouldn't it?

Such an existence would lead to a life without pain. A life without fear. No fear of death, hurts or suffering.

What would life be like without these sharp, burning jolts of pain or dull throbbing aches? If the punch of a bullet couldn't pierce your skin and the bang of a hammer send no bursts of pain to your body, what would you feel?

How would you like to be the man of steel?

Such a possibility leaves much room for the imagination does it not? No more limitations.

With the removal of the chance for harm and pain, so too are restrictions erased. No feelings, no fear, no weakness.

What kind of world would we live in if everyone was born invincible? Imagine.

Is harm an ultimate necessity? Should we celebrate its existence or loath its being here?

Try to picture what you would have become had you not experienced a single pain or loss in all your life. Would you be the way you are now? Or would you be somewhat different?

Do scars make you who you are or do they only break you apart from the person that you need to be?

Mysterious Future

Bewildering is it not?

How time moves

The way moments meld

Where present transits

And past merely melts



Us, chasing the infinite

Striving to catch it

Racing for every second

Hoping not to lose

Though there is little else to gain



The material is temporary

Emotions are temperamental

Memories will be forgotten

And duties are empty without reason

Reason itself cannot be scrutinised



What is there to gain?

What do we grow into?

Where-in lies maturity?

How do we know?

Questions, questions, questions.



Every action executed

All the leaps in knowledge

The discovery of religion

Each individual mileage

A void of mere passage



Capture the moment

Read the journey

Record history's passing

Find a containment for time

Redeem the flowing seconds



What will you find in the sands

Cloaked in a crystal hourglass

Bearing raiment of gold

The secrets of the philosopher's stone

A little more thought

Ever found yourself doing things you would never do, should never do or never thought you would do? And you find yourself asking;Why did I do that?

Be it a mistake or the right thing to do? Was it your innermost wish to do so or simply an impulse which may have been misplaced? Putting some thought back to it, would you have done it had you given it some thought?

Sometimes, a little less action and a lot more thought may give life more meaning.

I've learned that it's a lot easier to react than it is to think - Ronald K. Pendleton

Nature

Oh soft flowing breeze caressing my skin

How kindly you bring the sweetness of spring

Upon the wings of a buttefly

Rippling upon leaves of trees up high

Quaint be your gift so fair

The tingling you leave as you run through my hair


~*~


Oh great ball of fury up in the sky

Your beams of warmth does lighten up the land

Joy you bring in your golden rays

Calling the children out to play

Blessed be you wo brings the plants to grow

The sun who shines and paints the world gold


~*~


Oh earthen ground upon whom I stand

Your strength and calm presence does soothe me

Your cold yet motherly touch that is always there

Quiet and uncomplaining, resilient and unyielding

Lessons do you teach with the silence you bring

At home is how you always make me feel


~*~


And to the rolling seas spread far and wide

Your heavenly calm and serenity is always a welcome sight

Surround us you do in every sight

Providing abundance as none else might

Yonder waves that sing upon the sand

A soft melodious tune few men could comprehend


~*~


Wind
Fire
Earth
Water


~*~


All exist in harmony

And peace can be found

But when that harmony is broken

Disasters abound


~*~

Growing up

Innocence

A cover

To history untold

Waiting to unfold



That was a child



Chaos

Broken self-control

A tale finally begun

One chapter of laughter and fun



Days

Flying like the wind

Ceaseless trail of images

None too important to the child



Pages run through with little meaning

No words were needed

Little story called for

A mere platora of meaningless colors



When childhood fades

And experience grows

meaning is given

And teenhood comes



A calling to mature

What am I?

I have my stories

But I tell them to no one

I have my views

But they are seen by none

What they see

Is but a refraction of me

What am I?

:A diamond:

Garuda

upon the back of the king of the birds

ride does the light of the consuming sun

Brought down from the wisdom of an ancient sage

Filled with blood of royalty great



In body golden, upon wings aflame

Strength of the eagle in kindness unfurled

For a mother's sake much sacrifice is worth

Against the gods would he fight off



For his mother did the nagas hide

Within the gates of hellish plight

For freedom was traded an elixir divine

Wrenched from greatness in a single crime



Upon his journey was he approached

To be made by the king of the gods his coach

And thus was Garuda, King of the Birds

Made Lord Vishnu's great charge

Up high...during the lowest of times...

Upon a cliff

At the edge of sanity

Upon the brim of lunacy

Away from society

Stands a lone figure

Alone...





Where has joy gone

Sadness everywhere

Drowning in toxic smog

Smothered away from sunshine

up on a cliff

Suffering...





There is no help

The sun no longer shines

No hands reach out

Even smiles have faded away

There's no way out

Trapped...





Eyes burnt in darkness

He could not see

The silence deafened

Nor could he breathe

They surrounded him

Choking...





The ground was too far

The skies too high

Nothing within reach

But for the smog

Nowhere but the cliff

Lost...





Too high up

Wrapped in blindness

Stumbling forwards

Only to fall downwards

He had no hope

Crying...





Only one could save him

But he could not see

Would not see

Far too engrossed was he

In what he could feel

Blinded...





There was no more revelry

In fact, there never was

All this time walking

Days he'd spent talking

Nights of constant scouring

Emptiness...





He was beginning to learn

Where he stood

Amid the clouds

Away from the world

How caught up he was

Dreaming...





Memories tied in time

Collared with green history

Printed upon pages yellow

Cringing finally under scrutiny

This was the wage of age

Growing...





Looking to his emptiness

Knowing the scar of years

The way he had found and lost

He knew only one need

Only one object of desire

Escape...





Every step of the journey

Each passing day

Along with the clock's ticking

And the pages flipping

The end comes nearer

Longing...





Isolation brought revelation

Witnessing from a distance

The world left behind

By a single person

On who knew what he wanted

Freedom...





Now at his final chapter

Beginning to see its end

With nothing to see

And no place to land

He could feel it

Mortality...





In the distance

Through the crystal ball

He sought now only one end

Wanted one more purpose

A final act before he left

History...





This was his gift

In a single book

The teachings of his life

For the world to see

A story of a lonely man

Dieing...





The turn of the final page

Final letter of the final word

His biography ended

His whole life told

All the world been read to

Closing...

Questions difficult to answer...

There is a very fine line between good and evil. And it takes much time and effot to define that line that sepparates the two.

What are the qualities that sepparates one from the other? What is good? And what is evil?

Goodness. What entails it? How do you describe it?

-Kindness -Morality -Empathy

Are these three factors enough of a description for a good man?

A good person is kind and helpful. He/she will not stand idle before others'sufferings and will always do his/her best to help bring joy and happiness to the lives of others.

An agreeable definition? Perhaps.

Thus would we say that a person who willingly and gladly helps an old lady cross the street or donate alms to the poor is a good man. He was being kind.

But what if the man's act of kindness brings harm to others? What if the chosen act of kindness may lead to a bad end? For example, releasing a prisoner from jail so as to relieve the prisoner's suffering even though the prisoner may be a mass murderer and may choose to harm others? Is he not doing good in helping the prisoner? Then what off the people who may wind up victims of the bad man?

Note that doing so is being kind to the sufferings of the prisoner,yet, not so to his victims. Is kindness such a good thing?

As for morality to be of great importance to a good person, how many among us would have to agree to this? How many of the good people that we know have a truly strong and steadfast sense of morals? How much of it do we need?

But of course, before we answer those questions we need to understand what morals are.

Morals involve dignity. An innate code of conduct supposedly everyone should understand. Many things can fall into the realm of moral conduct. Ranging from behaviour, mode of speech, train of thought to belief.

the prevailing traits of moral values are difficult to trace, but the outlines of a moral man would be respect, responsiblity and empathy.

Empathy. Goodness has to have a lot to do with empathy. How could you care for a person without feeling or understanding just what they are really going through. The ability to put yourself in the shoes of others and understand their suffering. This would have to be the greatest source of motivation for the kind man to do good. Wouldn't you agree?

After all that, did we manage to encompass the whole concept of goodness?

-Kindness -Morality -Empathy

Is that all it takes to be good? Or perhaps there is more to it.

Is goodness and selflessness one and the same?

Is goodness in-born in the heart of every man, woman and child?

Is goodness important?

Questions like these are difficult to answer.

Bound

Is my heart closed?

Why can't I move?

Have you bound me down?

Why can't I make the choice?

Where is my freedom?

Why am I blind?

Why can't I hear...

You calling out my name?

Time

Time in its endlessness

Meanders through thought

Within the dreams of the thoughtless

Can its end be wrought



Decay is becoming of it

Relatively slow sign of its passing

The strong losing their grit

The weak of this world leaving



Growth accompanies it

Upon a journey forward

It slowly lights a darkened pit

Illumine with wisdom's chord



With its silent passing

Relayed is history's wake

Its zest for change more than a fling

Impredictability the icing on its cake

contrary

Contrary to popular belief

My life began not the day I was conceived

It had all started

On the turning of a leaf



The beginning of my tale:

The End



*Open the cover*



The writings on these pages

They echo through the ages

To tell a simple tale

One tale with many faces



*Turn of a page*





Slowly building the pieces

Gathering the ink of each day's riches

Observe my story unfold

Piece by piece in words and letters



School was an experience

Learning became priority first

Friendship building a second

At least those were the intentions



All was fine and dandy

Amidst all the studies done daily

I grew but a fraction older

Slowly breaking into my teens



*A new page begins*



Years wore on

Friends come and go

A quarrel here, a fight there

Staple dance of good and bad



The centrifugal spin

Of growth and decay

Learning becomes a past-time

Just as experience, became more



Search for independence

Look for the self

A chapter of experience

Page upon page of change



*Furling the pages*



What is the meaning

Where is the truth

I find myself pondering

Searching for clues



Of course I won't find them

They are not here

The Koran of my life

Is built upon broken pillars



*Empty parchments*



Where is the end

I can't find it

I'm waiting for it



It...





just....







isn't....









coming.....













is it......?

A dedication as promised for the one whom I seek :)

Name, a beautiful one she has

Under no circumstance to be forgot

Reigning queen of my heart

Regal lady of my dreams

In you is what I buried

Love heavenly beyond retrieve



Hail the lady smart and young

In purity of a dreamy heart

Restless and trapped in a cage

Freedom untasted she yearns

Ask her what she wants

Never will her wish I deny

All the care and love that exists



To her will I give

Heart and soul

Eloquent lady of mine,not



Of radiant beauty

Nirvana's trophy

Evening suns and midnight moons



I present you

LOVE

Move.

Newton's first law of motion states that an object at rest tends to stay at rest and an object in motion tends to stay in motion with the same speed in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force."


It is the natural tendency of objects to resist changes in their state of motion. This tendency, is aptly named inertia.

Inertia = the resistance an object has to change in the state of motion


Contrary to popular belief, forces are not needed to keep an object in motion. Forces are what put objects in motion to rest.


This world we live in is filed with friction. Everything that moves is met with an opposig force that tries to slow it down. Everything accellerates and decelerates thanks to the existence of forces.


Forces exist in many forms. There are contact forces such as friction, heat electricity and kinetic forces as such. These forces are obvious to sight and only transfer directly from one subject to the next upon contact.


Then there are the stranger and more perplexing invisible forces of nature. An example of which is gravity and magnetism.


All of these forces, pushing and pulling against the constant inertia of existing matter, are much like the lords of motion and our reality itself.


These forces are the ties of fate that binds us together. These forces are what pulls us apart. They are the commanders of change. They are what brings the world to life, as well as the ones who kill it.


These forces have been around since the beginning of time. Everchanging hands, ever moving and never ending. Power and energy in this universe, like matter, can neither be created nor destroyed. Merely transferred from one source to the next.


Such is the case, since the Big Bang, and as such the case will be still till he Big Crunch. The universe, forever recycling through its endless cycles of movements.


Intricate indeed is this giant clockwork realm that God has made for us. Marvel at it.

The Book

Trailing the pages of time a day at a time. What can you learn from it? Leading an introspective life. Is there any good in it?

Everything happens for a reason. Good and bad both has its place in the world. All that happens brings teachings to be gotten.

Is there any truth in the aforementioned mantra?

If one lives his whole life trying to latch on to every single message that is written within the pages of days, will one find true bliss?

Does heavenly joy lie hidden amidst the thick pages of everyday normality waiting for the day it would be uncovered? Does joy abide deep within the writings of destiny, slowly being uncovered amid history's unfolding? Need we decipher it?

Existence. The story of life. Existence is an empty page. The page upon which the story of life is written. Where destiny is built on. Where all purity resides. Empty pages.

With the flowing tides of seconds passing is written a story. No. Many stories. A poetry universal and layered within a language complex yet simple.

Can life be read? Be existence an open book? Is the written story of time within comprehension?

Turn back the hands of the clock and you will know. The key lies within history.

Each passing moment recorded in the book of our years adds up. A long tale shall be spun with each letter that marrs the page. No matter which way the story goes, the story will be told.

will the book find its end? Is there a closing chapter? Perhaps. Yes. There has to be. Every story has to have an ending. Every tale needs it.

Once that finality has been reached and the line drawn, past pages will matter no longer. The book of life, once closed, will no longer need be opened.

Upon the fields after the end of days will you then wait. Wait for the book you've written. No. The book the world has written for you to receive.

Will it fall in your right hand or your left? Who is to know?

By then all that you know will be judged. And all that you don't will be revealed.

Should one live constantly trying to derive meaning, or should one attempt a carefree life simply soaring upon the wings of the moment?

How do you read your book?

Scars

One scar for every day
A trickle of blood
Only a bit of pain
not enough to cry


A thin cut upon the skin
Barely a scratch
A mere few inches in
Enough to bleed


the prick of steel
Biting against flesh
Coldness on warmth
An innocet form of harm


The hurting of the body
Self-mutilating acts
A mental addiction
A devilish pact


Pain to counter pain
Heat to combat flame
Taste of fresh blood
Lingering upon the tongue


Remnant of unshed tears
Flowing from open wounds
Palatable fears material
Born of doubt-filled years


Litter the earthen soil
Send back life from whence it came
Through much grief
In torment find relief


I cut
I burn
I bleed
But for myself I'll never weep


Live by the knife, die by it
Dare to cut, dare to bleed
By the scars I here inflict
I douse my pain in physicality
For no ache could hurt more
Than the hurting of the soul
God I beg thee forgive
For now in etching my skin
I have sinned
I'm sorry. I had to.

Lost

The spark of a thousand fires/

Burning with the passion equal to the dark of night/

Buried in battle amid flaming pyres/

Are traditions lost in the invading light/

Candles of past teachings slowly fade/

Losing their fervor with the passing days/

With the coming down of a new era/

Morality has changed to a darker plethora/

God dictates with eternal mandate/

Yet few answer His calling/

Men have lost themselves in sin/

And women hide behind their material awnings/

All is gone; to never be found/

Furious is the night for being robbed of heaven's light/

Much to the Devil's delight/

The men remain unaware of thei plight/

Lost indeed is heaven's light, replaced by the mean glows of evil disgrace/

The spark of a thousand fires/

Burning with the passion equal to the dark of night/

Strayed off is the path of man/

And God willing we may never find it back again/

Kill the passion and douse the flames/

Seek only what divine light ordains/

Return to the light and lose yourself never again/

In a single piece of steel

Have you ever seen the power that resides within a single knife? The potential danger that resides within a single blade is immense. Specially so in the wrong hands.


The nature of power which I now speak off is fluid. It is the ability to exert change. Power not merely to destro but also to create. To bring peace.


The knife, is an instrument that readily comes to life in the hands of a man who appreciates its powers. A well cared for knife gleams with the superiority and pride of a predator.


Small, sharp, simple and ready to use. It cuts and pierces through flesh soothly, leaving behind a soft, smoth and clean trail of blood.


Its cuts may not kill instantly or even hurt or send sharp jolts of pain coursing through your entire body instantly. But a knife is surely the greatest tool of precision for carving up the flesh.


Surely surgeons, butchers, cooks and artists alike would agree to the artistic nature of the knife's power.


Within the shine of the flat of its blade is an artistry and vibrance that reflects the world around it. Wildly does sunlight sping off its smooth steel face into your eyes, reminding you of the purity of the blade's essence; merely a reflection of the world. The world so far away.


Its sharpened edge whispers to the minds of those who would listen.It beckons constantly for its reason to be fulfilled. It craves to be used. You could almost say it hungers for blood.


Gladly would I give my blood to the knife. The taste of steel upon skin, it awakens me. It silences my wounds; temporarily.

When one is badly hurt...

"Drowning in the dark blood of would be brothers who, beyond the pressing of fingers , those for whom the slice is only the beginning, and a different kind of light comes in, begs recognition and piece of mind."
- Judybats

One would have to ask, why turn to the knife when seeking God's help and having faith in Him would hurt much less?

Minutes Past

Minutes pass by
Slow as can be
How time does fly
As a bird so free


Tick. Tick. Tick


Years crawl on
Twenty and counting
More unfound
In youth a fleeting


Tick. Tick. Tick.


Decades ongoing
Nothing remains still
Summer till spring
All life his its fill


Tick. Tick. Tick.


At the end of days
When movement ends
Time lays to waste
And life returns to God's hands


The final tick...


Before life begins...


Allahu Akbar.

Dreams.

Dreams. Man's most lethal form of reality.

Every man lives in his own world. Every man tells his own story. He shrouds himself under the covers of his own dreams that none else could comprehend but for him. That is the truth of our reality.

The realnes of the world is merely the collective influence of mankind's dreams.Our society is a sub-conscious creation of our imaginations. Our society is what we make of it. God made it such.

Life is nothing more than a dream in livid color. A dream filled with trials and hardships as well as temptations caught in a long slumber away from the gates of heaven. As long as we remain tied down to these dreams, we will only be a shadow of our true selves.

This world we now live in - this reality that we believe in - is nothing more than a gift. A small virtual world of dreams made to satisfy the human spirit's curiosity and lust. It is a lure that slowly drags us even deeper into this dream we've made our reality.

And as long as we remain in this state of dreaming, we may never find out what it feels like to be truly complete. As long as man lives within this playground made by God, he may never experience true peace and happiness. At least not until he learns to look beyond his dreams to the inescapable reality of this world's finite lifespan.

That eternal existence beyond our dreams is what we ought to be looking for. Man's tendency to lose himself in the virtual life is the bane of his future. To look beyond the illusion of the present life is perhaps the only way to escalate beyond our dreams.

Many among us are perhaps well aware of this. Some of us choose to release themselves from the absolute grip of this world through the window of the faith in God.Then there are also some of us who choose to continue and live through our dreams and not look past them. so we lose ourselves in this day and age. Thus has mankind lost his place in heaven to the entrappings of his dreams and selfish desires.

Or is there really nothing more after this "life"?

Hear me now my son. Your father now speaks.

I pass down to you my boy
The greatness of our fathers
The wisdom of all mankind
The traditions of our race


Our people live in history
Mentioned in our forefathers' stories
Reenacted in legends and myths
Forget them not my child


Their blood runs in your veins
My blood echoes in you
We are all a part of you
Our greatness lies within you

But we are dead


Remember our teachings dear son
All that we've learnt we give you
Our minds are now yours
Taught by commands, follow them well


Remember us dear child
We know what you do not
We know what you will
We pave for you the way

Yet our minds are gone


Forget not the way of the people my boy
Traditions we've made for you
Use them well for good
Take them to heart


We pass the baton down to you
As my father taught me
So have I taught you my boy
Forget us not

For your father is dead

Blood

A part of you disappears
A part of you reappears
You are constantly changing
Constantly living and dying


Your blood is a part of your soul
Each drop an entity on its own
A single dot of sand upon the beach
Unimportant alone yet still part of a whole


Live began its journey small
You began no bigger than a doll
Your life began in a body not
It all started in a single clot


Every drop of red viscousness
A single sign of life minute
Flowing through tunnels of flesh
Pumping with life never to rest


Work on till you die
Keep on working till the end is nigh
Blood, Oh essense of life
From that alone could existence derive


Buried with the harrowings of life
Stirring in bouts of burning anger
Flushing red in joyous passion
Every flowing moment is redly coloured


And then a day will come
In your lifeblood you will drown
With it will time stop for you
And start again it will never do


The fuel of man's immortality
Will one day run dry
When all blood has run from his face
He'll know that all need to change is done

Pain

Pain. More specifically, emotional pain. Sadness, grief, tears. Mental scars and meta-physical torment. Heavy melancholy: Broken hearts.

Only time can heal invisible wounds. Friends lighten the load, family shares the grief and the mind, the penicillin of the heart. The pains of the soul have no medicine. No medicine 'cept for faith.

Silent nights spent under the lights of the moon and stars; Lying upon the soft carpet of dew and grass recalling troubles long past.

Hours counting to the irrevocable conclusions, contemplating and recalling. Forever reminding of what's lost and gone. Regret.

There is truly no pain greater than the pain of the heart. That is what a man caught in his saddest of days would agree to. But of course, the pain is merely a reflection of the weakness of a man's strength of will. Or perhaps, a measure of the strength of a man's will instead. Who knows.

The power of the heart is a very strange one. It is capable of bringing with it as much pain as it is capable of harnessing great joy.

Perhaps there-in lies the answer to countering the suffering of the heart. Only in finding joy can the broken heart be mended. Sad to say, there is no joy that will not fade away and no pain will remain out of sight for all time.

All that's left to do is to weather the storms and seek to find the light at the end of the tunnel.

Face the pain that you feel. There is no use in shying away from it. It will always be there with you.

"Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters." - Jim Morrison

Falling into your shadows. I beg you.

*Kneel down*

Had you known what I'd known and seen what I've seen, you'd understand just how much you mean to me.

In your darkness and silence, you've hidden your tears and your pain. You keep showing your smiles and your happy face. But to me, you are older than you look. Colder than you feel. I can feel the depth of you. The depths of which you refuse to let me reach. I'm drowning.

I don't understand. Can't you see I yearn for you? Don't you know I care for you? Won't you let me feel for you? Why don't you let me love you?

You shy away from me as if in fear. Am I really that ugly? Or is it just that I can't make you happy? Perhaps I can't hold your interests long enough. There must be something wrong with me.

But you keep saying no. That it's not my fault but yours. As if you're not good enough for me. As if you're a tainted and lowly breed.

Do you really think yourself so low? You can't really think that right? Perhaps you wish me to find a better woman. Someone more fine or divine. Can't you understand?I don't want anyone but you.

You who can make me smile. You who treads the paths of good and bad. You whose touch sends tingles down my spine. You who have become everything in my mind.

You wanted someone who was willing to try and understand you. Someone who'd be there to be happy and sad with you. Someone who would HELP you. Yet you are keeping yourself away from me when I try to approach you. Was I moving too fast? Are you just not ready for me?

If so, then I could wait. But there is something more isn't there?

You are being held back by something, or someone. I wonder which is it. Do you just have no feelings for me? If you hold absolutely no interests in me, if you find me a total bore, then I beg of you. Tell me! You seem to treat me more as a burden.

Or perhaps it is just me. Have I misunderstood you? I really am trying. But you don't seem to understand yourself either.

Can't you see that we could make it together? We may be different in many ways, but we have our similarities too. They may not be apparent. I only wish you would not fear me so.

Give me a chance. Please.

I beg you.

*Fades*

When a man falls in love with the soul of a woman, he loses himself in her. And as soon as she pulls herself away. He loses himself...completely. Only a woman could drive a coward to leap into uncertainty to grasp at the shadows, hoping to reach the heart of her soul. Only a woman could send a man kneeling out of his own free will. Could any man be as foolish as that? Could any man be wiser than that?

booo...~

I'm not a virgin anymore ='(

Sun-Shiny Tears

Rain amid clear blue skies
Neither dark nor sun-shiny bright
Hide behind broken smiles

Mind . Heart . Soul

With the mists of memory
Fades time past
Cradled in dreams
Are love and lust


In eternity find
Both of us
Bronze and aged
The color of rust


Forbidden by rules
Held steadfast
Retreat in the end
We know we must


To an end
As clear as glass
Retreat from this land
One day we must


One of us crumbles
Turning to dust
Another disappears
With the light of dusk


One is the body
A material mask
The other the mind
An invisible crust


Once both is lost
Burnt by age
Found will be that
Is the core of man

Nature of the world

It is the nature of the world
Bringing with it change
Carrying nought else
Altering day into night


Present fades into the past
Future a notch carved in time
Time an essence of the world
And the world an agent of change


The sea rolls upon land
Erasing my prints upon the sand
The waters are cold when the air is warm
Warmer when the air grows cold


Everything changes everything else
Everything affects everything else
Six degrees of sepparation
A thousand ties a binding


Lord over all things
He whom sits upon His throne
Thus He made everything be
Beginning with time, to motion all things

Gone

And when the days
And after the nights
With all the dismays
The loss of my light


You chose to walk
Despite my pleas
You never talk
Though I'm on my knees


I've grown frail
Time's passed me
You chose to bail
I set you free


Age is against me
My wisdom is failing
It's all too early
And slowly I'm breaking


Don't dare to cry
Over milk that's spilt
Keep asking why
The answers continue to build


Over and over
Wheel turns and turns
So drunk I'm sober
Life never fails to burn


Charred and battered
Beaten and bruised
Badly colored
Terribly overused


I'm unadorned
Also unappreciated
I feel bummed
Or am I retarded?


People see and hear
Some close up to touch
The nearest I hold dear
Save for you whom I've lost my clutch

Am I an idiot?

I remember asking for death. Wishing it would come for me sooner, seeing it as a form of escape. Have you ever felt the same?

A coward's wish it was. A hope to leave a prison and the sentence that perhaps keeps me here.

Do I not appreciate life? Do I not appreciate these gifts of God? Such a rude wish. The more I think about it, the more I hate myself for even thinking of such things.

Be thankful for the life that's been given to you. Be happy for the time that you have.

A prison though it may be, this prison is full of comfort and freedom. Painful experiences may abound but an equal amount of joy flows through this life. Am I disregarding that everytime I pray for my death? Am I ungrateful?

God alone knows how grateful I am for all His gifts. Food, drink, love, entertainment, knowledge and much else. The list just goes on.

All He ever asks of me, is that I be grateful for His gifts and worship Him and only Him. Allahu Akbar. Obey His orders and steer myself away from any activities that He has so clearly warned me against.

Worship. I have yet to do enough of that. When I think about it, I'm a pitiful servant. One that doesn't deserve any of life's blessings. I deserve to go to hell. I wish for death.

But I try to convince myself otherwise. Perhaps this is a chance for me to redeem myself. Opportunity to change my ways. Save myself from my sins.

Sins. When I think back on them, I realise how weak I really am. How could I let myself fall prey to temptation? Why'd I do such a thing?

I look forward to the future. Towards the tests and temptations I may face. The tribulations that may await me. And I wish I could die.

Am I an idiot?

Strangers and loved ones

Could you trust a stranger?
Would you trust a stranger?

Trust: Assured reliance on the character, ability, strength or truth of someone or something.

Psychologists and sociologists would refer to trust as an open and positive relationship between people.

Could you open yourself up to someone whom you barely know? Would you even think of doing such a thing?

How do you decide who you can trust? Looks, behavior, voice, character or history.

Is it necessarily easier to trust someone close to you in comparison to a total stranger? Or is it the other way around?

Why should a person trust anyone else at all? Why should I believe a single word anyone else says?

To open oneself up and leave one's belief and heart in the hands of another, is a great risk indeed. Then again, will you really be opening yourself up and risking yourself by trusting someone else?

Trust: Belief in others. It depends on YOUR outlook of the other. It is something that grows. Built up by repeated positive experiences with the other. A bridge.

So should you start off simply trusting a stranger? Or maybe a healthy dose of distrust is in order.

But isn't it possible to trust without getting hurt by it? Physically or emotionally, trusting yourself to another appears to be a really big issue indeed. Why is this so?

Is this world so distrustful? Is there none in this world we can trust? Or is it just us who are distrustful?

Is it just us?

A man

There once was a man who fell for a woman;

And a beautiful woman was she.

A smile as bright as a rose so red;

T'was a sight he'd never forget.

Her hair a-tussel slightly a mess;

He minded it not for she still looked her best.

This woman was an angel dressed in black;

Yet beautiful she was to the blinded man.

She was to him the most lovely;

The queen of all queens she was.

And he wondered if she would be his;

If she would pick him to be her king.

No matter what though her decisions may be;

He knew that she'd always be his queen.

Always be his queen.



The man, he now merely hopes that his queen would now read this little message of his, and know that no matter what, he would always care for her. Always care for her. Such is the story of a man posessed. Such is the love of a man impressed. Sad to say, a rat may never catch the heart of his dame.

What is it?

"Mine honor is my life, both grow in one. Take honor from me, and my life is done. Then dear my liege, mine honor let me try; In that I live and for that I will die."

- William Shakespear.

It appears that honor is as valuable as life itself.Reputation, self-respect, morality. Nobility, magnanimity, birthright, duty. Pride. What is honor?

Is your reputation worth risking life and limb? Had honor been a meer repute of a man, why is it of such great import?

Is moral conscience the heart of human honor? The strength to do what is right. That is honor. Or at least such is the claim of some people.

Or would it be rightly so to attribute honor only to the rich, famous or of noble birth? Have you ever heard of honor being within the hearts of the poor or peasantry? It hardly seems right to some of us that honor should be restricted merely in men of a certain class.

Honor is :-

Reputation

Morality

Pride

Self-respect

Self-respect is possibly the most important aspect of honor. A belief in the goodness and righteousness of oneself. Pride in a person's own sense of morality as well as dutiful achievements. Honor as an emotion. A feeling. A birthright.

"To lose your honor, to feel that you have no honor even in your own eyes, says a lot about the person you are. Honor is important as it affects how you feel about yourself."

- Fadhilah

Honor, being what it is appears to be of great importance. So, is honor important to you? What is honor to you?

Muse

Voices echoing in the wind

Blooming the flowers of spring

Singing upon my heart

My eternal delight



Raining with treasures

Wealthier than gold and silvers

Blessed I am to be

Had I followed paths set for me



Yet blessings are not what I seek

Throw them away I did with a single flick

Follow I did the life I'm seeking

Amid the voices in the wind

change

I had thought it strange that life should mould itself the way it did. But it felt stranger to realise that life could change me such. I would never even dream of it.

Religion

Religion. What is religion? Be it Islam, Christianity, Judism or even Buddhism. What is it that makes religion religion?

Is religion based upon laws? Laws written within books and Gospels. Laws preached upon by priests and monks. Laws preserved through time and age. Examples like the ten commandments, and laws of conducts called forth by Islam; And the moral conducts as well as virtues taught by Buddha.

Is religion itself merely a shared group of beliefs? That would literally turn science into a religion, wouldn't it? Considering that science itself consists of beliefs and trust in what is widely thought of as real and common sense.Is science a religion?

Some say religion is trust in the existence of the supernatural. Faith in the existence of God.If so then where does that put Buddhism? Is Buddha a god? Do Buddhists worship a group of gods? The answer is no. Buddha never was a god to begin with. If so, then why do we consider Buddhism a religion? Could there be a religion that doesn't base itself upon the worship of something that isn't all powerful? Could you have a religion that does not worship God?

Does religion always include worship? Can you have a religion wherein worship is not something that needs to be done? A religion that does not need prayers. A religion that does not demand sacrifice. A religion the needs no reverence. No pilgrimages. No praises. Nothing. Is there such a thing? Perhaps the inclusion of Atheism as a religion would make such a thing possible, wouldn't it?

One has to question how one can claim to know of the unknown. How could man be so sure of writings and sayings whose truths and claims may seem unbelievably surreal and unproven. How do you know of meanings brought about by descriptions too vague and sentences whose meanings are hidden away? Is that what religion is all about? Prophetic tales of days to come and the end of the world? Or perhaps the creation of everything that exists.

Idolization. The root of every religious movement. A highly esteemed one whose will and traits are held in highest regard above life itself. Idolizing a man into godhood. Making a single human being the utmost important entity within your life. Would that account for a religion? Examples such as spirits worshipped by the Chinese as well as the Aborigines. Not to mention the Buddha.

Belief, worship, idolization, way of life. Four of the many defining qualities of religions.There are many questions left unanswered by religions of men.

Above all else, is religion a reality or merely a creation of the human mind?

What would you want?

Would a flightless bird yearn to fly?



Would a fish ever yearn to walk?



Would a snake ever dream of running on legs?



Would a crocodile wish it could climb trees?



Would a chameleon ever want to talk?



Why do humans want to be able to do everything?

That which exists

A single flame. A single spark. Just one light to ignite a furnace. Just one step to begin a journey. A start to an end.

The flame of existence is a strange one. It burns with a light that chases away the dark obscurity of emptiness. Just as it does so, it replaces that darkness with a bright light that is itself equally empty.

Existence never fails to make its mark. Every single object of creation burns for itself a hole upon the fabric of emptiness.

Everything that exists calls for change. Everything transmutes. Just as fire feeds off its fuel to create smoke, ashes and light, so does existence create something out of the emptiness of nothing. It brings change.

Be it organic or inorganic. Human or animal. Living or non-living. Anything that exists holds within it the potential to affect or cause transmutation all around it.

Take the existence of ideas. Ideas take form in the minds of men. These men act upon their ideas to create and change. And to assist in this creation they enlist the aid of existing tools. Tools whose efficiency affects the newly made creation.

Indeed, like fire, existence need not be substancial or even material. Thus one could also say that emptiness itself is also an existence right? Or is it merely a lack there-off? Existence. To be capable of causing change. Would that be a poor definition for existence?

Of crumbling relations

Broken families and shattered hearts litter our society in numbers impossible to comprehend. Friends, acquaintances, family. There's bound to be people you know who have experienced love and lost it.

Among these people, there may be those who find their ways around to loving another. There may also be those who wallow in sorrow and practically never move on. Two choices, two walks of lives. Which is the better of the two?

Losing loved ones is an unavoidable fact of life. Either through death, quarrels or other circumstances beyond our control. And once the loss has occured, we try to find a way of coping.

There are many ways in which loss can be handled. Some forget it, some live with it, and some seem to drown themselves in it. Sooner or later, in happiness or sadness, with or without someone new, you will learn to move on.

Each relationship that you go through brings with it much hardship and ordeals. Along with those squabbles, frustration, anger and anxiety will be felt. And the end results are usually the same; Sadness, disappointment and trepidation.

Yet again there are bound to be sweet memories amid all those times spent together. Sweet memories that become the heart and soul of relationships.

When these relationships break apart, all that will be left is their heart and soul. All that will be left is memories. Memories that will stand the test of time. Memories that will forever be in your subconscious. And as you continue on in life, you find it playing a vital role in you as a person.

Be glad. For even amids crumbling relations, memories still live on. Experience love. Lose it. Above all, always remember it.

Sins

Sins. Of these I have many. An innumerable number that I may not be aware of even.

Sins against man, sins against nature and sins against God. It is undeniable. I have many sins towards many others.

All of it written down. From the day I was born, till today. Time to time I wonder, what would it be like for me to learn of all my sins? What would I do?

Knowing

Knowing others is intelligence;

Knowing yourself is true wisdom.

Mastering others is strength;

Mastering yourself is true power.

-Lao Zi

The achievements of a single man cannot be measured via a single constant scale. For achievements are measured by knowledge. And knowledge flows and changes with time; like the wind.

Thus we find, that every new achievement merely overshadows the old.

This is because achievement is a key that unlocks doors to new challenges. New knowledge.

Look through the books of history at the discoveries of mankind as a whole. From the discovery of fire, to electricity, to inventions such as the wheel, lightbulb and even airplanes. Each achievement paved the way for greater discoveries. Achievements cannot be measured. Instead, they should be made into the tool of measurement.

Achievements are markers for the growth and applications of a man's knowledge. Every daily activity may be an achievement by itself. Everything that tests your limits and drives you further is a learning experience.

Indeed, as intelligence and wisdom grows, so too will strength and power.

So learn. Seek knowledge of yourself and of those around you. Understand yourself and your surroundings. Only then can you master life and find peace.