To Make a Song Sing.

The songs we sing, a masterpiece,
each tone extends like galaxies;
On every listening ear it brings
a never ending sound of peace.

Tranquil notes inscribed in sheets
paired with rhyming words of speech.
When played, compose sweet harmony
that changes gloomy life to glee.

The instrument's a painting brush,
making music a work of art.
When played, depicts the world alive,
and draws a vivid tale of life.

People always tell me that
composing songs requires a lot;
When mood seems right to make a point
of letting thoughts be put in words.

Though I don't know what notes to write,
nor how to make mere words to rhyme;
I still believe that songs are made
by heart inspired by life's charades.

Thoughts Encumbered

Dusted, big black book
Opened once, judged twice
Aged harshly by time
Each pages quite untouched

Like mouths shut,
Like doors locked;
Knowledge speaks to no one,
Secrets remain dormant.

If it only has tears,
it would be crying.
If it only has mouth,
it would be talking.
It has skin but couldn't feel,
it has no eyes but clearly sees
the truth no one cares to hear.

Autumn Leaves Falling...

Goodbye Youth, Hello World

My Last days come to pass,
like steel, beginning to rust,
like stars, loosing radiance,
loosing brightness of light.

It's like beginning of fall,
after a long hot summer,
where leaves drop down
from its long, withered branch.

They fly on empty space
where blazing winds take 'em
to a place unknown,
'til they dwell, and decompose.

Farewell soon, my glad youth days...
those days where childish minds go play.
Some questions solved, while others stayed.
Will I ever solve it? My heart could say.

Hello to a brand new world!
where Innocence has no room,
and Ignorance, not an excuse.
it's like being in a strange forest,
where freaky monsters wait for prey.

Goodbye Youth, Hello World...
no time to weep, no time to mourn.
I must be brave to face the truth
"to be the best, survive 'em all!"