Leonardo David Tay

Have I stained you?
Did I do wrong?
Please tell me who,
Sadly was sung a song.
...

Swollen eyes, weary face,
'Twas I was fractured, much too grief so fierce.
The heart that used to beat and pace,
Save it the solace, as through the heart, I'm out of tears.
...

I've seen despair,
I've been crying.
I've seen the absence of air,
But all was fixed in perfect timing.
...

Man was created,
And so nature came forth from it's creation.
They progressed so slanted,
But that's what to expect from one of inclination.
...

Mountains, canyons, and rivers.
In the material and abstract they're nature.
We never were receivers, nor givers.
We were never indecisive, nor were we sure.
...

I would like to entwine my hands with yours, walking into the blue,
And heed everything you say.
Would this come true?
Well, only if you may...
...

A realization came by
So sudden and abrupt
I imagined I could fly
And all emotions erupt
...

Descending rain,
Day to day you fall.
You're not one so tame,
You are nature after all.
...

Leave it be,
My soul so salted.
Don't halt, nor dare to see,
For anger courses through the insulted,
...

Tease me with a sight
A sight so sweet, so blissful
It doesn't matter if I yearn, because I know right,
That the torment it will cause, it could be nothing but painful
...

I walk upon this ground,
Existing, helplessly.
I may only be a sound,
Maybe, probably.
...

Where are you?
Where, in a world so vast?
Who are you?
"Who? " one would ask
...

I propel
Into a muse
Like a spell
You just confuse
...

Fell upon the hardest,
Bruised upon the roughest
I will surely see to it,
Found for you, a place to sit
...

A window opened,
A breeze of hope
None so happened,
If one would mope
...

Valentine help me,
A soul solitary
Assist me to see,
A love extraordinary
...

A distant so
To the future I stare
I raced thro'
To see how you fare
...

Has it been long,
Since times I despaired?
Perhaps I'm wrong,
But fine I have faired.
...

Forgotten I shall be,
By no intent
To that, woe is me!
None will lament...
...

The pencil's tip,
A pointed wonder
By one's grip,
Tells tales of here and yonder
...