hmm.. since im single again.

Dear blog,

Since im back, i think im gonna fill u up again XD..

Hello old me

The Breeze of My Heart

Swaying breeze why won't you blow me away too,
Further away, away from all the troubles and pain,
Dear breeze will you bring me too,
Places far away, away from the waine.

Tying knots, were my feet now, bound to the ground,
seamed into the fabric and hold me sound,
So breeze will you blow once more,
And bring me to places like once before.

Does it always rain, under the sky so wide,
Will it touch the horizon there before the heavy tide,
Will it drip, and soak my soul to the bone,
Or will you just please call me on the phone.

Will it ever come i wonder,
The breeze and the rain,
Will it moist the evergreen dew,
Will it be the same or ain't?

Mr, Unpopular

Well, currently having a really damaging phase rite now,
I rather go out alone than going out in a crowd,
I hide in shadows, cloaked by a hood,
Keeping company in books than people in heart.

My mind veers as the situation turn muddle,
My soul backs as the corruption inhaled,
Mr Unpopular, is what i am,
Being alone is what i aim.

The words, the laughs, the sorrows, the tears,
I shut it all, all corners of tiers,
Mosaics of duets, waltz and piers,
Shatters the sunsets the sunrise the arcs i near.

Mr Unpopular, here I am, here i laugh,
Into the void, the doldrums, my heart still,
Hark the heralds, the angle sings,
Here come the jester of loneliness within.

I am reborn the calipsto of torn,
Hidden in asylum, dark unborn,
Haha.... sanity grow thin,
Am i now morbid seen.

ps... no... i am not crazy yet, its just a morbid way of addressing my situation

Sumthing of old

Sunder, splints, nails and torns,

What will words mean?

Coming from silence of morn,

Darkness veils as only loneliness seen.

Loneliness.... yes.. Darkness...

There is no muse, no sound, nor day,

Where are the birds that greet dawn,

Where oh where does it say,

Oh fair music that can break, darkness like clay.

And there it was, the light,

Smiten me as it changes,

The dance, the steps, the duets,

She sing to me in many faces.

I want to greet,

I instead retreat,

I want to say,

I instead ran away.

I'm a poet that has no own words,

I'm a bird that has no wings,

Nor can it sing,

Im hollow, empty, and no rings.

I've fallen sick... cough... no seriously.. Im sick...

Gettting Older,,,,nuuuuu

One step closer to heaven.

I guess it comes as soon as you see the candles coming to you.... Its aint that pretty and aint that entertaining either. Well thats my life looking forwards to birthdays... Let me see, 1,2,3,4... gosh... 23 candles.. getting old... but not getting lucky.... wish Hilary Duff drop by though..

Well, putting lucky aside.

Life in class is getting frightfully dready. The equations are just getting more alien by the minute...oh got sum 100% percent lately, but looks like it gonna drop soon. Air Law is a bitch and getting my arsse into it, is really shitty. The guys and I are preparing the arsenal for the exam in DCA... god... it is one of those test. You gotta go all the way down to cyberjaya to do it... No easy way... unless you get the leaked question... fail and you come back later... pass... and you just forget it like the things that you ate somewhere last week... and yeah, its boring....

Well putting airlaw aside.

Turning 23 aint that bad... I think... it beats getting to be 24... Hmm should really take it slow in this getting old thing.. not used to it.. wish werent that many candle to blow... not like im getting any presents.. well not to be a sour puss, my birthday wish is... hmm... dun rally know what to wish for... maybe for my next birthday dun come to soon..

I love this... Gurl.... about Her...Laughs

Music Video Codes by FreeVideoCodes.com

Rice and Bran

Rice and bran are both good friends,

They were both different but they are were a pair,

One was slim, the other a bit more fare,

Rice and bran were both always there.

.

Rice and bran are both still friends,

Till one day, they came to a dare,

One grew up, the other remain stail,

Rice and Bran and another name Dare.

.

Rice and bran are friends still,

They are now a face and one was the tail,

One was rich, the other went poor,

Rice and Dare, and Bran came poor.

.

Rice the rich and Bran the poor,

Both were friends and now were foe,

Poor Bran who still remember Rice by name,

Rice on other hand went greedy with fame.

.

Rice the filth and Bran the poor,

One was greedy and the other was hurt,

Rice got lost in the money he got,

Bran in other hand was still remember his friend by heart.

.

Then oneday, the story turn side...

.

Rice came poor,

Not a penny left besides,

Bran was rich,

Till he can't hide.

.

When Bran found out of what became,

he search high and low for his friend, he aid,

Rice knew, and not want to face,

He hid so far till his legs when dead.

.

Till the last grain of sand remain,

Rice was bedridden sick and to Bran dismay,

Rice said, " I was once rich and now i'm poor"

"I push you aside and forgotten your name".

.

"why"

.

"Do you still remember me by my name?"

.

.

.

"Because dear friend, we were still friends to begin with".

.

"Viva le Frienship.. Viva le Comment Fren"

Breeze

Swaying breeze why won't you blow me away too,
Further away, away from troubles and pain,
Dear breeze will you bring me too,
Places far away, away from the waine.

Tying knots, were my feet now, bound to the ground,
It seams into the fabric and hold me bound,
So breeze will you blow once more,
And bring me to place like once before.

Does it always rain, under the sky so wide,
Will it reach there before the heavy tide,
Will it drip, and soak my soul to the bone,
Or will you just please call me on the phone.

Will it ever come i wonder,
The breeze and the rain,
Will it moist the evergreen dew,
Will it be the same or ain't?

Sigh....

8th of May

Take us to the place where cries turn to laughters,
Where piano keys strides on the silvery ponds,
Longer than the breathe of the trees in autumn,
Deeper than the blue sea of old...

Thats the buried treasures, of old sailors,
Not the gold, but the ones that remains buried,
The ones which remain buried though found,
Alas the one piece, of all spanish gold pieces, the thing call love.

Many still search out for their share,
Many found their share,
I found it not far from home,
But near to me by my side, my shadow, my mum.

She may not be the most shiny pieces,
But she is the most valuable buried piece i will always keep,
No matter how far the apple fall,
It'll never fall far from home.

So dear ma.

Happy Mothers Day

Just Once in a Very Blue Moon... but my nights are always the same...

So just once a blue moon,
I howl back to you,
To the weak spot in here,
I'm sure its not the beer.

Oh such a blue moon,
Does it ever shine down on you,
To have weak knees in here,
Just to talk alone here.

You left, as if I was always the one,
The one to be forgotten,
More just want to be forgotten,
So they'll never come back here like before.

Dear blue moon.
I hate you so...
You come once in the blue,
But you come to me more...