Poems

The Weeping Angel

With loss, comes something to preach.
But it did not diminish,
for one's soul never break, only bend.

There were times where memories seem like they'd never end.
Child's play, foolish for the old.
Yet, they stayed true.
Cherishin every moment as if they'd vanish.

The black vow was never meant to be broken.
It is something that you cannot break.
Mercy for oneself, cannot be bothered.
For he himself haf drowned in his mistakes.

There was nothing.
Nothing to blame, no one to flame.
No excuse, just recluse.
Feel his soul passing, but never obliterate.

The word 'hope' could betray you.
The word 'hope' is but a brittle vessel for someone feeble.
The word 'hope' is but a bulwark for the quitter.
But faith could be the toughest weapon of all.

After endless pain, tomorrow, he marched forward.
Carrying all the gloom.
In hope the pressure would be enough to create something more divine.