Her days

Her days

I wish some things,
certain words and casual memories,
Of your warm touch and gentle bliss,
That lively soul that was,
Guarded by armor of your affection,
Now feeds on your shadows-
Hallucinates, back and forth,
Stuck in you, the world you carved
For him, a new born in your game,
Cradled in your arms, left faithless insane,
Unattended all along,
Yearns being satiated,
Your touch-
Love.

-insanets

Farmer From Fraternity

I am that subtle farmer from fraternity,

who unfortunately stepped on today.

The initial hand was approval,

Not much longer, I felt suffocating.

I, from there came mistakenly,

Must I belong here at all?

I, like those suffering crisis,

Am too taken dully by harsh stone sentiments.

This petty world of today it grows

On being enslaved to those robotic emotions.

Should you practice such dear world,

Call for tablet as such in stores.

I like them pour my heart on the street,

My ego being treated too roughly.

Nearly every time I pondered,

What defines rock bottom for such.

Sometimes I feel pity. On and off,

For you and for me;

You being such we hate,

I being such that’ll never escape.

Diseased! We’re trapped in this age of lust.

And I, I seek what the archaeologists look for,

Someone said last when they saw it was 1960s ,

Love, not today save it for poor babies.

An idea

V for Vendetta
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIIay5EqqeY

I’ve witnessed first hand the power of
ideas, I’ve seen people kill in the name of
them, and die defending them… but you
cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold
it… ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain,
they do not love.

Rising manhood

“The very basic core of a man’s living
spirit is his passion for adventure. The
joy of life comes from our encounters
with new experiences, and hence there is
no greater joy than to have an endlessly
changing horizon, for each day to have a new and
different sun.”
― Christopher McCandless