pag-ibig poetry!

My nostril smells awesome inside of my nose,
a bit like the bloom of a newly-picked rose.
It started this morning--I couldn't say why--
and all araw it's smelled like saging cream pie.

It has the aroma of freshly-baked bread
with hot melted mantikilya and lumboy spread,
and maybe the breeze of a warm afternoon,
that follows a thunderstorm early in June.

It smells like a pine forest, right sa pamamagitan ng a lake,
and tsokolate chip cookies my mom likes to bake,
like kettle mais pop-popping over a fire,
and laundry, the moment it's out of the dryer.

My nostril smells awesome, so I have a plan
to sit and enjoy it as long as I can.
Don't ask how it happened; I really can't say.
Perhaps it's my finger that's smelling this way.

The monochrome scenery in the dead of night
A pearly-white mist to blind your sight
Immortal chains to bind your soul
Immortal chains to set your goal.
Silence has set upon your life
Bestowed upon you like a cursed knife.
You must have knowledge through and through.
The segundo World is haunting you.
Let your sorrows be set in stone
Carved down to the edge, to the skin, to the bone.
Let your sorrows be put to rest
And let them guide you along your quest.
I'll dance with you inside layered light
On jewels and gemstones shining bright.
You must have knowledge of what to do.
The segundo World is haunting you.

Before I procede to
take my last breath, before i
inhel the semtums of death, before
i shed my last tear for help, my death
is calling in the hand of my friends.

my life has fallen deeper from my hands
to my feet i'm crawing can't speak,being
on tuktok makes you weak with a foney smile
down to the ground, one of my mga kaibigan is pulling
me down till i can't even make a sound.

I need help but me and God
both know that their is
nobody around.

somethimes darkness will never
fall down........

In this room of despair,
A man is sitting with demons
Inside his head.
In this room of memories,
Only death breathes,
A man lives with gloom,
A man dies with sadness.

Inside his eyes ,
In that depth of blue terror,
Years of despair are seen,
Years of struggle are painted.

His life,
Cruel and lonely,
Was never a joy,
mapait and sad
This man lives with demons
Of past.

I can see the pain that
Is painted on his face,
Silhouettes of past that
Play this music of terror,
I see only darkness and despair
Inside the eyes of a sad man.
This sadness is mine too,
This poem is written sa pamamagitan ng the curse of
The children who will never meet happiness,
This poem is a poem of a sad man,
A man who sees nothing but greys.

My pag-ibig is like to ice, and I to fire
How come it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire
But harder grows the madami I entreat
Or how come it that my exeeding heat
Is not delayed sa pamamagitan ng her heart-frozen cold
But that I burn much madami in boiling sweat
And feel my flames augment manifold
What madami miraculous thing may be told
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice
And ice, which is congealed with senseless cold
Should kindle apoy with wonderful device
Such is the power of pag-ibig in gentle mind
That it can alter all the course of time

The world as I see
People tell me as a child
That it is beautiful and wonderful
Yet it's scary and unjust at the same time

The innocent dying
The guilty being set free and getting money
They laugh at other's pity
Standing in their own pit of filth they created

Poor Nawawala little child
All alone she walks
Yet she knows she's madami powerful than she knows

They never do see
What destruction they cause
They call it justice
I call it lying

Poor child all alone
Yet madami powerful than these liars
They will see the other side one day

This giant filthy monster
Trampling down the innocent Nawawala souls
Yet this little one holds the key to the truth

Their own definition of truth and justice
Their own definition of mercy and love
They say justice is blind
But all the lies we hear now
Don't you ever wonder who the blind ones really are?

One day
One araw the real truth will shine
ipinapakita all the laughing liars
That the pader they built from fake
Will come crashing down

Crippled soul, strung with fears
Is running into disaster
Of paranoia and indestructible fear,
While your thoughts are struggling
With larawan of rottenness
Which is spreading as spiral evil,
Devastates every form of intelligent mind,
Now already Nawawala in insanity of own mind.


Fear is growing inside,
Your mind is filled with worries,
While the picturesque dreams
Will corrode already exhausted brain.


And in openness of your own madness
Peace will come as confirmation,
To which you'll finally start to believe,
Although you wasted your life
On rottenness and fears
Which is spreading inside as ominous spiral.