Been a year. Have a poem.

I want to know what makes you smile,

So I can let you, even from several miles.

I want to know what things you fear,

So I’ll be there to dry your tears.

I want to know what brings you joy,

Is it a touch, praise, or a toy?

With you spending time,

Would that be such a crime?

Just a summon away,

By your side I shall stay;

No confidence you put in my place

But yet I prepare, just in case.

I fear not losing to you,

I do fear the losing of you.

So until you my solace seek,

My deathly silence I will keep.

A Villanelle - An Etude Of Life

Move on with the scars; move on with the past.

Scars do not define, they teach to refine.

What is the future? We will always ask.

Great dreams were broken, outside they were cast.

Words of the pessimist we must decline.

Move on with the scars; move on with the past.

They lost sight of their dreams, said mine wouldn't last.

"When will the path I travel become mine?"

What is the future? We will always ask.

Why do the patient ones finish the last?

Lacking the strength to challenge the incline.

Move on with the scars; move on with the past.

How many beings in this world so vast?

Of wonders and magick there seems so sign.

What is the future? We will always ask.

Denounce destiny; fate and chance, lambast.

To be remembered, unique, ne’er defined.

Move on with the scars; move on with the past.

What is the future? We will always ask.

Resting thy head upon a void, nothing is secure, nothing is real, nothing can be felt.

The wings await growth, still.

Night-time Blues

Feeling detached, philosophical and melancholic. Drifting off to my own realities every night, never wanting to wake up.

That person...

You weren't quite sure what was it, that unnatural feeling about her. Day by day you'd see her randomly up to something, and then one day you'd realize, it was the creepy visage of someone putting up a pretence.

I Am A Little Bird

I am a little bird,

With wings so small;

That tree so tall

For ever, I fall.

I am a little bird,

With dreams soar high;

Though I have no hope

To fly those skies.

I am a little bird,

With no food to grow;

Trying so hard,

Let no weakness show.

I am a little bird,

With no home to go;

Long time wand’rer

Of this world, alone.

I am a little bird,

Looking high to the sky;

I’m sick of suff’ring,

I’m tired of life.

I am a little bird,

I am waiting;

Waiting, some day,

That something will change.

Jie Sheng Lim, 12/08/2011

It is both the sheltered, and the tormented, who grow up to torture and even kill.