A Rejection First shot by Cupid’s Arrow Now stabbed by a knife and it is being twisted An eternal wound with eternal scars My heart broken into infinite shards Like a vase that fell from a great height

The dam of my soul cracks It breaks and oceans of tears welcome me to my bed for many nights A bed cold and lonely for I have brought no company I greet darkness like an old friend, but it be my poison

For I have lost. Lost on love once more Lost on making myself whole Lost on finding the one

But hark! Another Angel, another chance A new love, a new light in my life Now I see darkness less for light has returned A renewed purpose

Like a phoenix, I rise once more. I chase love once again Like a phoenix, I was burned and dead. But now relived and alive Like a phoenix, surrender and hopelessness reigns to new determination Like a phoenix, my love life is

An Ode

Kudos to my loves old, but not forgotten My loves that I still long for like that felt by wolves howling at a full moon My loves that have left their marks on me like ruins of civilizations of yesteryear My loves that make me ponder: What if?

What if we had gotten together? Instead of a satisfied heart like the belly of a well-feed gourmet, I have experienced nothing but the breaking of my heart

My heart has been broken more times than the number of broken China after a running of the bulls in the China Shop

Cupid has bleed me dry for he has shot at me too many piecing arrows through my heart

But yet I still give chase to finding the one meant for me Love need not lay among the stars or among towering riches

As there are riches in the Earth under mud, rubble, dirt, and rocks And on the Earth’s surface There is love and beauty in the more and most simple of places

All my loves I did discovered during my schooling in my classrooms Grades 6-8, one per year Focused and addicted I was on each them like a moth to a flame Until the last 2 where I got burned with the latter resulting in a crash and burn

Then wilderness years where I be like a bee Until a siren come call my name I came hither and made a move She recoiled and remorse filled me For I killed a friendship with my greed for a match

Then Spartan days came. The college year Mostly a bee once more. An Angel of Maidan almost carried to the salvation I seek But the tide of school and tide of life drifts us apart

All of this, Puppy Love yes All these loves, simple girls not of wealth nor fame My love for them and perhaps you can them themselves, Simple, ordinary, maybe even plain and/or naive But my love and my loves are pure and thus are the best kind of love and women

I never was an early riser

But I didn’t always live so often and so deep in Darkness

I always had Yin and Yang

The light of day and the light of happiness to contain the darkness of sorrow that was born out of my traitor

Golden days of gold and greens. Sky blues and cotton clouds.

Golden, warm days to go with my bitter, cold nights. Nights where the traitor comes.

A traitor he is. For he was meant to be a guardian to me, to be a light for me, to see the best in me.

Instead he be a tormentor and a dementor. An abyss instead of a tower, a black hole instead of a star.

A volcano of rage and fury with wildfires of anger instead a calm hearth of hope, of warm, of welcome

A rain on one’s most joyous parade instead of a herculean lifter of the lowest of spirits. A miser, a Scooge who cries over spilled water when one isn’t suppose to cry over spilled milk.

A lover of material, of money, of mammon when he’s supposed to be a lover of me and other kin.

More dragon than man. Cold blooded is he. Fire breathing and spitting is he. Greedy and a hoarder is he

Not many friends, but their quality made up for a lack of quantity like the most treasured of jewels

Them and mentors, teachers, professors, guides to see the best in me. A fellowship. A hearth at least!

But yet not enough. For I still lack a higher love. Then I spy a single, green light.

It called upon me like the sirens to sailors, like duty to soldiers, like Excalibur and destiny to King Arthur.

Flickers on and off, moves from host to host. Changes shape, changes nature, changes hair, changes voice. All beautiful as Aphrodite with voices of gold

But fail to get to them I do. Been burned in the chase a few times too. The more I burn, the more the darkness I live. The salt in my wounds I get from my traitor along with stabs to the back, with the twisting of knives, and hits when I’m back. The more tears welcome me to sleep. But still I rise for the day

Then once upon a plague, I came upon my latest Angel. Their eyes be a chameleon. Sometimes they be Wise Grey like Athena’s (a mirror into her wisdom and knowledge), sometimes they be green as an English garden. But most of the time they be blue as sapphires

An Angel that had me fall like one in quicksand. For she was the one. The single, green light turned blue.

The single, green light turned mirror where I saw, for the first time, how badly I was cheated. For I was cheated out of a life with them.

Gone be my fellowship, separated were we by the plague and the tides of life.

Now into the darkness of night I live in. My screen, my drug. My drug to forgot. A drug that grows weaker at getting me to forgot what was suppose to be.

My screen, a mirror into the life I was destined to have. I now grow tired near daybreak. I sleep in a cocoon of my covers and blanket. For my misery make it perpetually cold. A body pillow, a shred, a reminder, a placeholder of the Angel I was supposed to be with.

I never was an early riser. But now I ask: Why Rise? For there isn’t much worth rising to.

Why Rise?