Silence

Silently she screams

bleedin' inside out
unspoken fears,
unleashing
the beast within,
weeping
deadly tears.

Silently she sleeps
screeching
unforgiving nightmares,
searching within,
screening
destructive sears.

Silently she sees
despairing within
broken dreams,
excusing
scathing within,
remembering
indelible years.

Hold me to Believe

I can see the hurt inside,
when you smile with broken eyes.
Pincers pierce with searing pain,
when I see my work in vain.
Woe be gone from your life,
blissful memories all step aside.
Just hold my hand and believe,
your side I shall never leave.
Why the hurt? Why the pain?
'coz for you I make it rain
from the stars to the sight
of heavenly minstrels bright.
Little girl still deep inside.
Let her go, let her fight.
Let her live again her way.
Let her believe together we may.
Let her see that its not that tough,
to sail past the briny rough.
Let her feel that together we stay.
Let her feel my love, come what may.

Prick Me Not, My Lovely Rose

- stirred back to life by 'La Cleora Ortiz'

As the shiny morning rays
gently caress your surreal waves
O' my beauty! O' my life!
you run me through, you make me smile.
I step outside and take a while
to dip into your pool divine
"Blesseth be thy lord above"
to let me have this gift of love.
In the gentle breeze you sway
lifting my spirit in a million ways.
Your sublime beauty with me stays,
takes me high, paves the way.
In this crimson aura I lust
everyday from dawn to dusk.

But as the silver moon smears
shiny sparkles on your million tears,
a thought fills my head with dismay
'will there be another such day?'
Dark clouds loom overhead
making me restless in my bed.
The thing of beauty, a joyous sight,
maybe may not, but then just might.
Boards creak as I make haste
not another moment I shall waste.
Labored on albeit a smile
to and fro, went a million times.
Till again the golden fingers play
on the Birchwood lying astray,
and all the seven heavens glowed
beaming down on your new abode.

Forgotten Flames

In my mind
where I beginning to think
where several paths
in front of me which way it links.
Intention too instinct
no route to be convinced
goes on in my own way
in hollow thought
in empty space
Lost in the crowd
world filled with hatred.

Its too dark
Its to feel
numbing cold
forgetting chills
stand up
take a step
forgotten past
can't keep you held.

If I pretend
a blink of freedom
uncaught in destiny
Melody in rhythm
lost in reality.
Leaving pieces
of solace behind
unwrapping your soul
to cover up sins
abandoned in corners of mind.

Its too dark
Its to feel
numbing cold
forgetting chills
stand up
take a step
forgotten past
can't keep you held.

Not so hard
to keep it real
end of day all you feel
passing green
passing gray
every stone
carried away.
Frozen screams
burnt to grave
tattered soul
demons crave.
Bleeding heart
pulsing fire
its my life
a lonely satire.

Its too dark
Its to feel
numbing cold
forgetting chills
stand up
take a step
forgotten past

can't keep you held.

By Outlines of Shades

The Burgundy Butterfly

In this life and the next

even throughout all the rest,
I'll be yours and you'll be mine
its all just a matter of time.
Girl I love you, yes I do.
That's why whenever you're blue
I see the tears you hide inside
ones that escape, I try to wipe
To keep you safe, I always try
but sometimes I lose it, sometimes I cry
sometimes I wish that I just die
just to show you what I feel inside
there is nothing that I wouldn't try.
But that's all I ever seem to do
try and try harder to deserve you.
Guess you're right and I was wrong
and that's why I am writing this song.
You are my one and I was yours,
the guy who used to make your blood course.
He lost his smile, he lost his rhyme,
he lost himself over a period of time.
We were happy, we were fine
but he wanted just a little time.
You see, I still shudder inside
every time I remember that night
scars and bruises heal over time
and this one here is taking its time.
You shouldn't blame yourself for it
it was just something I did.
After the night the clouds had roared
never again my spirit soared.
Unicorn murderer, he had sinned
and I knew I couldn't live with him
that's why now all that's left of him
is a vague blur with scars that scream within.
But in this process I just skipped
one essential fact that simply rips
apart this whole diabolical scheme
of why I did what I did
and who the real enemy is.
You see it was he and not me
who swept you off your feet,
for whom your violin strung,
for whom the birds and bees
flew around overhead
blessing eternal peace.
I know that now,
known it for a few days,
thought about it
and can put it all on replay.
But this time around
I wanna do it the right way.
Don't misinterpret me, know
we're both part of this relay.
Am gonna be him
gonna resurrect him from his grave.
He's young and foolish
but his path we shall pave
together, now and forever,
just stay with us come what may.

My Mockingbird

Fly little birdie
fly high in the sky
under angel's wings
sweet touchdown I aspire

Prologue To Our (goin'-to-be) First Novel

Somewhere in ‘05,

Dear Reader,
It’s 3 O'clock in the mornin’. I don't remember the date ‘coz I haven’t been updating the journal for quite a long time. For weeks I’ve been tryin’ to face myself, the person I am, the person standin’ in front of the mirror. But tonight when I was going through some captured memories of my precious, I realised just how amazing those moments were! I couldn’t hold myself from feeling gracious and smiling at the vivacious little acts she used to put together just to see me smile. Today, even though she’s not with me, she has made me smile after a very long time. I look at myself in the mirror, see myself lively and smiling, and question “Do I deserve to smile? Do I deserve to be happy?” Maybe not! But I can’t help feeling happy, satisfied and complete whenever I think about her and grieve at the same time that I can no longer be with her, or have the things I had, no matter how hard I try. Seems like I will always be hollow inside, filled with nothin’ but regret and agony. The darkness will never go away, the mistakes I have made will never stop chasing me, and my tattered soul will never be whole again. So am making the last entry, to my diary and to my life, ‘coz my soul can’t have a second chance to make things right again, ‘coz my life is left with no meaning other than conveying its mistakes, ‘coz my conscience tells me that I deserve to die.
I don’t know who you are but you'll come to know me real better when you read this journal of mine, whose epilogue you are going through right now. If you're starting this journal from this entry, you might be wondering who am I, what’s my name, and what’s the reason I am dead? Honestly and to be straight, the answers to the first two questions don’t really matter ‘coz if you're reading this you either already know me or will be knowing me after you’ve read this journal. And if you don’t wish to continue then you definitely do not bother about me. Yes, it could've taken a word or two to explain who am I, but I kept on saying things that are ambiguous, ‘coz I see the world differently and that’s the answer to the last question, the reason I am dead. Am not a coward, am not scared of anything, am not running' away from my responsibilities, then why am doing somethin' that am doing, because my death is the only way for the world to know my memoir.
Well, am not a guy who keeps memoir of everything he does, but then I started with this habit when I felt handicapped to understand the things that were going around me. Pretty crazy you know! Wasn’t' able to keep track of what’s happening when, why am standin' in the middle of a street, sleep walkin', hallucinating, and forgetting things. While sitting' beside my friend’s dead body in the morgue, I realised that my memories were playing games with me and decided to capture them into pictures or words and cage them on paper.
Am an artist by profession, the Artist who can’t part with its artistry, the one who captures the very flowing emotion that never comes back, the beauty of very instant that slips away if not captured on canvas, the beauty I used to come across every day. Now that she’s been missin’ like forever, what’s left in me is mere flesh and bones with running blood streams, walkin’ alone, heading nowhere. The last string that connects you and the world to me is this journal. And through this last page I implore you dear reader, never let go of the love you have, ‘coz there are very few people in this world whom you meet only once in a lifetime. If you lose them, they may never come back. If the story of my life recorded in here helps you in any way, then let it help someone else too. Perhaps that’s the only way I can redeem myself for the mistakes I‘ve made.

Jason Ames (a.k.a Jesse)