1. The Threat of Writing

The lines we write define us
They are lines that hold more than words can tell
And more than mouths can read
We write and hope to be misunderstood
For those who get us break us
Those who get us uncover the masks that we wear
The masks we choose to wear
Protectively, cowardly, and eternally
In short, writing is our mirror, our mask
It is what we are, and what we pretend to be

נכתב לפני 11 שנים ו-8 חודשים

2. I'm Coming With the Rain

I had an ocean of tears
Locked within
And the only way for freedom
Was to cry

I had a world of
Headaches
Sleepless nights waiting
For me to hurt

For years and years they
Waited, waited
For a spark of
Him, a memory

And when I though
I had filled my room
With tears, they
Started leaking out my door.

I can cry
I can hurt
I can write
I am back

I'm back and I'm weaker,
I'm back and I'm hurt
I'm back but I feel
I'm back but I love

I may love a concept
I may love a man
I may love my pain
And I may love them all

Dearest reader may I say
How grateful I am
For you've been waiting for me
And here I am, and here's my rain.

נכתב לפני 11 שנים ו-10 חודשים

3. Eternal Deja Vu

Untold stories are the most anticipated of all
Until the moment they're through.
Then they reach a brick wall
And hope to find a clue.

They either stop or pass,
Through bricks made of glass.
And the only fact that's known
'S the wall is solid as stone.

And if they fail the challenge,
That many a story surpassed,
they blame it on the damage,
Our storyteller had cast.

And the storyteller is dead,
And that failed tale's our thread,
To start a new tale,
That breaks our best scale.

And once a man succeeds
To write a worthy piece,
They scorn all his deeds,
and bring him to his knees.

And then our man resorts
In a bower of some sorts,
And we hear them people repeat,
Stamp them with your feet.

נכתב לפני 12 שנים ו-1 חודשים

4. Untitled

A smell of coffee is in disguise
Camouflaging the beauty of antiquity
Of a second hand street
And worn out ghosts
Of repainted graffiti on a shattered wall
Of a lady holding a candle
That is melting on her feet
Her feet are burning
We can smell them
Smell the thoughts of an author
Once upon a book
Once upon a night
Once upon a fantasy
Once upon a blowing wind
And the wind blows her hair away
And it blows out the candle along
But it nonetheless keeps on melting
Falling, burning, making sounds
Sound of pain
Sounds of burning paths
Sounds of anonymous women
We see a woman's face on a wall
We shatter the wall
Kill our woman, but set them all free
And the candle breaks
And its' peaces still melt
No longer on a woman's feet
But on our liberating hands
That set them free
And incarcerate ourselves
In the broken pieces of a haunted wall

נכתב לפני 12 שנים ו-2 חודשים

5. On Writers and Wristcutters

We write in the dark
And pray to be seen
Like wristcutters we shed our words
And hope to die of excess

That liberty that shall not speak its' name
The thought that must be suffocated
Make writers into wristcutters
And readers into razors

We write, notwithstanding the risk or being cut
By razors that we sharpen as we proceed
The solid stone we become
And we touch the razors, kiss the razor, sharpen it, and decay

I'm not saying that this is a stone, maybe a tumbstone
But I do not shoot razors out of veins, my heart
All I'm saying is, I'm a writer
And wristcutters don't apologize

נכתב לפני 12 שנים ו-2 חודשים

6. The Dream of a Promised Land

I'm a missionary who lost her bible
In the galaxy of disbelief.
I'm a sinner, a harlot,
Who fled from the graced holiness.

I'm a coward who scorned
The blood the through me ran.
and now I'm a refugee
In an eternal occupied land.

All I have is a prayer to the gods of mercy,
The unforgiving gods of forgiveness.
To walk me through the dark,
To walk me past my endless night.

Let us walk out and see the darkened moon
Turn into a million splendid rays.
Lets smell the blossoming flowers,
and taste the springing joy of days.

I was once in a dark reality
Where lands were never to be mine.
Then one day I recalled,
All landlords must inevitably die.

And when I die, will I be remembered
For my sins, or will my soul light dimmed beacons,
Harbored paths that cast infinite shadows upon the invincible
Lights of the Gardens of Grace.

And when they all die, will they still be
Landlords? or will its scented soil lock them within
Their Own sinful greed as they melt, dissolve,
And nourish the land that nourished all their lives.

This land may not be mine today,
This land may never be mine,
But for this land I promise,
For the delightful taste of soil, I will give
My body, my soul, all of me, as a whole.

נכתב לפני 12 שנים ו-6 חודשים

7. response to The Road Not Taken

The last time I made a big decision, it wasn't a failure. Either it was too big or too small, I honestly don’t know, but all I knew was that this decision could have turned me into the hero of our time, or just an insignificant person like the rest of us, people. The thing about big decisions is that you never know when they come, or how they come, in what size and in what color. You just decide on a path, and that path will design your whole life. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sadly I could not travel both. Two choices offered at a moment, and sadly I could not pick both. Big decisions are usually not the kind that you can take back without any consequences, you have to bear the burden of mistakes, and enjoy the privileges of being right. When you make a decision, you have to live in doubt, the doubt of the nameless results of other options, the doubt of the unknown, the not taken. The familiar would have made me ordinary, since it is only logical that familiar roads lead to familiar ends. A decision could be a leap of faith, or a leap of knowledge and experience. My decisions have been common, safe, taken, experienced, and known. Sometimes I wish I could have explored a road less traveled by, sometimes I wish I would have been the explorer whose footprints are the ones to be followed, rather than the one whose footprints follow others and never take the lead.

נכתב לפני 13 שנים ו-1 חודשים

8. Everybody

Everybody is a self-employed judge,
They’ll condemn you, then hate you for holding a tiny grudge.

Everybody thinks they’re the world’s greatest prey,
They stab and kill, and right before they sleep, they kneel and pray.

Everybody is the target of the entire world’s discrimination,
But they scorn and ridicule every single nation.

Everybody is the ultimate peace maker,
And in war, they’ll be the first undertaker.

Everybody is blind to their disgrace,
Behind a disguise they dwell in front of every face.

נכתב לפני 13 שנים ו-1 חודשים

9. a race into the void

Kept my eyes wide open
In search of a remarkable sight,
So I sat quietly hoping
To get struck by a light.

Many passed through
And none stopped by,
Until I became the view
With a body almost dry.

Seasons passed and now at last
The lights took me along,
Without a body but with a soul we ran for so long
And with the wind we collided and made this delicate song.

Once upon a time I was under a sky
That seemed to touch eternity,
Amazed was I, wished I could fly
And seize integrity.

נכתב לפני 13 שנים ו-1 חודשים