Thunder II

I wonder why people are frighten

Of this huge voice rom heaven

nobody see nor even had seen

no one have drawn it, even painter’s pen


I wonder where does it came from

or what does it means, what it’s sayin’

all I know is it comes in one form

unexpectedly, even it’s not rainin’


Thunder you are a mystery

were you’ve been asked byanybody?

thunder are you what I’m feelin’

Well I guess no, where is the lightnin’?




You hit me like a deafening sound
from nowhere that goes straight to my chest
I asked the moon but it’s not around
Maybe it’s in the midst of its rest

You some to my ears as vivid as the song
of nymphs that descend from heaven where you belong
You blind me with a light to tell me that you’re near
OH, you’re always waking me my thunder



My friend asked me to write a poem about Thunder, she said she is always fascinated by thunder, i believe it’s lightning she means and not thunder, well i wrote this still for her. 🙂

I’m Telling You (Something about young love)

I was telling them I forgot you

But that keeps me reminded

of the things I should have forget

but I can’t

I was telling them it hurts no more

And that’s my way of saying it still does

I was telling them I have new one

Who cares about the old and the new?

They are both you

I was telling them I let you go

And yes you’re not mine anymore

But what I don’t tell them is that I still

and will forever belong to you

….. Writing poem such as this one is definitely an escape from loneliness and longing or more probably a way of letting your feeling be shown. Teenage love, I guess I should’nt have to call it this way, I’m 21 now. 🙂 But love is timeless, It never change, this is the way how I felt it before, even during the first time. This is why I called the girls I had my first love… A friend once told me, If you are not ready to be hurt, don’t fall in love. What the hell you’re talking, I thought, and this is the answer. Not all questions are meant to be answered the moment you ask it. I know now. Does love really suck? I mean, does this really hurt us? Well I guess I have to leave you hanging with this one. I am thinking of writing another article for this. Thank you for reading… 🙂 _vhanfire




I was sitting by my window

Silently staring on the moon

She is very lovely tonight

Like an iris of my eye

Well she has always been very wonderful to me


Beside me is my table

With a blank sheet and a sleeping pen

Unlike the moon the sheet is pure

My heart has no more to paint on it


Beside the sheet is a tearing vase

With roses of falling season

I was not sure where I put them

Deep into that venomous water


Just on the foot of the vase is a ring

That glints after moon hides

From the dark blanket on the sky


That ring was once worn by the moon

Even the roses were once hers

The sheet is empty because

That is the last page of our story I’ve once wrote…





And I’m gazing on silent stars
Fascinated by beauty at far
Shouting in the dark sky
Cold wind embraces me
And your smile is what I see
Then teased to stand the coldness
Waiting for your fall
That’s why I’m still through all
I hope you can hear my heart call
I’m waiting for your fall
Can’t even close my eyes
Cause you might fly so fast
Solitude will be so vast
If I’ll miss you this empty night
Heartbeats go so loud and eccentric
Like watching for the magic trick
I wish you’ll fall tonight; in my arms
Cause I want to hug you tight; with all my warmth


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We love to stroll together
And share some jest and laughter
I love to see her smile
And stare at her even for while
She loves to tickle me
That silly thing makes her happy
We text all day long, that’s our choice
And even call each other, when we miss each other’s voice
I’m happy when her hand is what I’m holding
The same way she told me she’s feeling
We love to promise each other
That we’ll be friends forever



I was thinking to write the dearest lines
and tell the words to sing for you
The clock counts restlessly, and times–
I got nothing until it’s due

Holding my nape, looking downwards
choosing the letters not to spell awkward
Can I write a perfect poem?
I guess I can’t, flowers won’t bloom

My pen had retched dumb notions
Mute, Spiritless, pale and empty
How can I paint all my emotion
when words coming out are all silly?

I browse for books and Shakespeare’s sonatas
Hoping that I can see something to dedicate
to tell how I feel about you dear
but nothing fit, all in despair

I told my heart to write a love
and words i wrote all flew above
Pardon me dear cause all I knew
There’s no perfect poem to tell how much