Poetry and Writings

Internet is full of them Streets however, are not as much. There are lots of pretty faces But not too many pretty souls. The diet is more important Than thoughts you feed your mind with, Such a pitty, A gem is found only once in a millenia  And if lost then it is almost as if forever... The world has lost its touch. 

There is a girl  On the right next seat She certainly has flower on her lips But most likely as well She has a sword in her mind Farewell, pretty, kind.

About the time to forget  To get on your knees and pray Because, well, some things never say What they ought to say. The paradigm of truth is that you stay alone Even in the crowdest of the temples. Don't ask me why I forget the ceremony But rather ask me how I do without it, Every day.

When you get rich And by that I mean truly rich The way you should, You don't count money Or stars  Or deeds you did good You count on your self More than ever More than most ever could Count the measure of your will That drives you to your dazzling glory That people never understood

The day to rest The day to think The day that marks the wrinkles In reflection of glass  Of wine that you drink

That light you find in darkness Deep inside your soul The one that lifts you up And brings back you your control The one that shines even in eclipse The one that reminds of her thirsty juicy lips Now that you're enlightened  You may have it all The purpose of keep going Is going after all The darkness does not scare me Because now I'm just having a ball Purpose of our goung is going after all

The art that was a therapy  The man who never tried But made it nonetheless The fear, the loss, the victory, The world he left behind And legacy that eases up  Upon the misery Drink tea and smile Because he drinks beer in heaven And smiles back at you

Blood thirsty competition Revolution among the admission Try to calm down the nerves There is no other superstition

You may be someone Or you may be none at all The purpose of life Is to look for that golden ratio In it all, after all, after all, Numbers complete words  To make us whole

You may be someone Or you may be none at all The purpose of life Is to look for that golden ratio In it all, after all, after all, Numbers complete words  To make us whole

Where the olive trees meet Where the candles were lit And the time had sowed seeds of hope We now live together  And call it home Population's overdraft  And pollution takes a shaft People die and their halves stay alone Such is agony of growing old

When a monologue and conversation meet Broken soul stands in complete defeat  Be the musical on the white paper sheet Be the sun that your mother has lit Get busy and move your feet  To the sound and voice of your own beat cowrite with @loliiitttaa

Tastes like brewed piss! Let the Irish and Germans Brew the drink of the drinks I tend to like Guinness more Than any Tokyo shipped can Of falsely made ale

I'm just lost in a way, hey, Playing a God who would stay, Proposing the truth every day Just another man who lost it, Then delayed the solution,  Ney, I haven't got much left to say

Hot beaches Warm people  Bar music like none else I haven't been there but I know I stole a piece of it  From the other side of the world

I have written enough To pass the twelvth class And many more hours of work I pretty much realize where it's going, Where next time will land the stork Craft of the crafts is giving life  To young fellows ho spark and inspire  The old ones

Nation so lost It doesn't recognize  Its own values There is the wailing wall But even those tears are shed in vain The pain of obscuroty is so reminiscent I can't complain how empty it all Seems to be

Golden cage with a key inside Golden bird waiting to go outside Golden cage Golden cage My soul is trapped in you I am not sure what I gonna do Golden bars aren't doing me any good Rather free myself and fly But I'm stuck in here, I don't know why