The Peculiar Orchid

The look of a stranger.
Eyes that speak another world.
It came like a monstrous dream.
Full of rage and sharp teeth and nails.

It birthed a parallelism.
One strength opposes the weak.
Pointing fingers to the enemies,
I stumble with the delayed truth.

This is the peculiar orchid.
A symbol of guaranteed triumph.
We cannot lose in the war.
Our army is better than the devil.



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I walk in the humid hours
of narrow streets, of gentle evening.
I am enveloped in darkness and
my shadow disappeared.

Tiny, artificial lights are inferior.
Some ancient houses left remnants
of bricked walls and the lake cannot
explain the reason.

I look for a crowd of mine but everyone
went into slumbering, busying peacefully
and engulfed in mortal dreams, and where
I stand is the country that is safe.



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Almost There

are things that
we cannot avoid.

are things that
indeed end.

are things that
certainly change.

are things that
make us feel good.

are things that
are worth to keep.

I am definitely
almost there.



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The Nature Of Drifting

In the space of the wide open,
I find myself lingering over
life’s uncertainties.

There is no bad in the good.
The ability to be perfect is
trying to reach the summit.

Sometimes we are seduced by
the deceit of the devil, and we
curse ourselves in transgressing.

We depart from the war
where we struggle to fight,
we own our defeat.

The nature of drifting
is losing our true identity
and we pretend like a fool.



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It Could Have Been Better

The exchange of looks.
Each guilt secretly there
in the minds of both.

The heavy heartbeats.
Sadness creeps like a

The smell of a ghost
from the past stings
strongly in the air.

There is no parting
word. No utterance of

It could have been
better. It could have
been better.



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Night ascends to
my eyes and the sky
twinkles with the million

A song of the wind
whistles a summer breeze,
and phantom thoughts cross
my mind randomly.

Slowly, the rain pours
gently, washing the dirt
of today, leaving me in
this solitude.

The flicker of fire
from the outside fades
as waters gush from above
and I am relieved.



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We escape a space of
public gossip and we
become the private
love story of the
late night under the
million stars of
our own world.



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