Moments and Memories

Moments past and moments renewed, 

Have only brought hopes of anew, 

Memories that chill and times of glum, 

Are only times past and forever forgot. 

True memories and unforgettable times, 

Are made with love and fortune, 

With cheerful hopes and smiling hearts, 

Do we cherish in an endless chain of memories. 

Do not regret, do not fret, for we are learning, 

The mistakes we cause, the misfortunes alot, 

Are merely preparations for a time unforgot, 

Wait for those moments, wait for those times, 

For it is those memories that define our lives, 

It is those moments that we remember and cherish forever.

Reverberations

An echo resonates within me,

Beginning from the core of my mind,

Sinking down to core of my heart.

I listen within me to search what

Disturbs my inner most cavities.

The reverberations drown out the

Tones of this mysterious voice,

These vibrations prevent me from 

Simply ignoring its call.

A subtle irritation.

A peaceful disturbance.

These echos find refuge in 

The voids of my soul,

And unintentionally lingers.

When Hopes Arise

When times near end and hopes arise,
A chime is heard beyond the tides,
The sun awakes to begin its day,
To warm the skys and rid its grey.

Signs of hope found in dawning sun,
Renewing the souls of the shunned
When life moves to its eager call,
As the sun removes the earth's shawl.

The day is fresh and past regressed
From the glory and the angst mess,
Created by father of time,
And perserved by an abstract shrine.

Yet fear and hope is in the mind,
And yet found in the rising sun.

Pursuit of Happiness - Free Write

I cannot help but remind myself of the pangs of my past.  When the odds are against us, when the darkness settles around us, we begin to gasp for air as we lay there waiting for someone to drag us out of the abyss.  A swell of memories slideshow as we remind ourselves of our regrets, our mistakes, and old dreams.  The pain lingers and the pain propagates.  These gray memories are mere imaginations of our past, mere snippets out of our lives, but strong enough to translate them into a reality.  

And so we must trudge on numbing, suppressing these painful memories in search for the beautiful moments in life.  This is why it is human-nature to be optimistic, to search for that fountain of youth which rejuvenates our soul and invigorate our passions.  We learn, we share, and grow old with memories which last for more than a lifetime.  We are always in the pursuit of happiness and always will look on to the next day to explore and discover the joys humanity can produce; the smirks, the laughter, the heart-warming moments.  I've experienced misfortunes, but I've also experienced enough happiness to trust humanity and its will to pursue happiness.  

Stream of Conscious: Tick

A lone tick echoes in the night,
Resounding against the wooden panels,
Searching for a corner to settle and sleep without fright,
But remember, the tick does not fright
For the tick keeps life in bound,
For what is life without time?
Yes keep those still framed moments alive,
But keep on moving and living with time,
Every breath you take, every dream you make,
Will be within the bounds of time,
Within the boundless borders of time,
The tick will tick regardless of your existence,
It will ignore you, it will forget you,
But it is you who must take advantage of time,
It is your goal to outlive time, to spite time,
Live in the moment,
And live without time.

Thrives

There is a point in time when decisions turn into frozen moments,

Where your mind evolves and releases a butterfly once entrapped within the confines your echoing thoughts,

When you must stop. And think.

Why are we dragging a deflated balloon of our past,

The torn shoelaces and tattered clothes.

We asked ourselves, why do we hold on?

Dreams of the past cannot be the dreams of the future.

Change is inevitable yet unpredictable,

How then can we depend on the abstract memories which echoes within our dreams.

Because a hope.

Thrives.

The Moon Flaunts

The Moon keeps on flaunting its face,
Beckoning for a glimpse of my eyes,
The pavement imitates its blank light,
And gleams like a dulcet sun.

Everything seems dead when the Moon is high,
Parks, cars, and homes afraid to show
Signs of life, the night consumes life;
So this is what the world is like
without that glimpse of life.

A child is afraid of the dark, of the unknown,
But why does the Moon cast an erie sound?
All seems white, all seems well,
Yet it reveals too much of the life that once was.

I am uncertain, I am fearless,
I am lost, I am discovered,
The Moon is high and the night is quiet,
The night is bright and I am blank.