Never Meant

 But love was never meant

For those who are scared

Of pain.

Love was never meant

To those who are rational 

And sane.

For a wise heart knows

That love is the devil,

Devouring hearts,

Deceiving it with bliss,

Until it bleeds,

Turning red into blue,

Blue into black,

An angel to monster,

Once was heaven turned into hell.

And yes, love was never meant

For those who learn

From other's mistakes.

Dark Poetries

Part I: The Canvas

My heart was so utterly broken,

And my eyes cried tears,

Flooding me like ocean.

But I refused to get drowned,

So I tried my best to swim,

In my own tears.

Until my brokenness turned into sorrow,

My sorrow turned into resentment,

Til I despise all the things that surrounds me,

My heart becomes a field of hate.

The once was a white canvas,

That you painted a colorful rainbow,

Has now become black.

Noir.

Dark Poetries

Part II: The Sky

My sky filled with diamonds,

Glittering stars with the moon.

I stay up late painting rainbows,

Believing I can see the colors,

Even in the midnights.

But 3am whispered a secret.

That rainbows can't exist at nights.

Even after the strongest rain,

All it will ever be is dark.

Darker than black.

Noir.

Dark Poetries

Part III: The Spaces

My heart is broken into million pieces,

With stories unparalleled and not even mine to tell.

Like  lifeline with cut into the middle,

I drew a line to make it longer.

Chances I took that I regret later,

It broke me but who could tell if it made me stronger.

And with all the lines and borders

I have to cross to find my way,

Led into spaces,

Vast of oblivion.

Once was white turning into different colors,

But when all the colors combined becomes so dark...

Darkest shade of blacks.

Noir.

The Beauty of not Knowing

 And all of a sudden...
I am learning to appreciate
The beauty of not knowing.

And all of a sudden...

I am in awe of the magic

Of something I don't understand.

And all of a sudden...

I am in deep bliss of mysteries 

Of things I can't comprehend.

Unknown

 The essence of magic is the unknown.

The mystery that bounds something from reality.

The ability to grasp but still cannot fathom.

And if the world would know the secret...

Then it will no longer be magic,

But simply known.

Linger

 You are the emotion that lingers.

Like embers in ashes,

Like debris in a beautiful disaster,

Like fragments in broken vessel,

Like echo in the forest,

Like mist in the surface,

Like petrichor in a dry weather,

Like pain in a broken heart