V

What is V?

V for vengeance and victory.

V for vulnerability and vanity.

V for vigor and vitality.

There is too much for V

that no word can contain it.

There is too much for V

too much that could have been

said and done.

V for a few minutes of kindness,

V for a second of tenderness.

V for pure innocence and hope,

V for bliss shared

V for love.

There is too much for V

that any measure of time can’t define it

Too many times that a hand

Could have touched another hand

Too many kisses could have been given and blown

Too many moments could have

been spent in euphoria together.

But V is not forever.

V is not for him.

V is never for her.

Too many things come in between.

Too many priorities.

Too many responsibilities.

Too many.

Therefore, V is for failure.

V is for pain.

V is for leaving and being left.

V is for goodbye.

What is not V?

V is not for destiny.

Not really.

Suicide IX

Eating a frozen bread in the middle of night,

lost in thoughts as to which to choose,

for there’s no gray – only black and white

and opting out means only the noose.

Find oneself in an eternal curse of misery,

and to be free only is to work out with the rope,

for all ways to escape resulted to melancholy,

Now can you tell me, where is hope?

The mind ceased to work properly

properly work to ceased mind the

ylreporp krow ot desaec dnim eht

and blah and blah  and blah and blah.

Mysterious it is what to come after,

this is the very result of hunger. 

Accuracy

“Why are you crying?”

 Silence.

“Why are you crying?”

Silence.

“Are you homesick?”

Silence.

“Tell me, are you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then, are you in pain?”

“A bit.”

“What is a bit painful in you?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You should.”

“I do not exactly know.”

“So there is just something painful but you’re not sure what it is.”

“Exactly.”

I'm back and I'm raising hell

I'm back with vengeance.
I'm back to kill.
I'm back to burn you.
It's true, I will.
I'm back with with the old yes-no-yes-no game,
I'm back with low profile
but with the same taste of fame.

I've been to a place
where I've been beaten badly.
I've been to a place
where I starved lonely.
This place was where
I've been trained to be bad,
But this was the place also
where I have gone mad.

The old me had been long
dead and gone brother,
This is the new me
and I am much better.
Better than  bread and butter
Better than cheese
Better than mayonnaise,
Better than a French kiss.

I may be the just-got-rid-of-my-job crap of the world,
I may be jack's dreamless and aimless detestable lady.
But you'll know I'm gonna make it big one day,
you gotta be ready.

I'm back in business and all is well,
I am going to bring you hell.