Once a broken soul in time,
The thought of living in cold clime,
Yet slowly - the harsh mountains I climb,
As I found Bifrost - Truly Sublime!

I imagined what lied beyond,
Would I be bestowed upon me - a Monde?
Or perhaps with the Aesir I would bond?
Who knows - Mayhap even Asgard's Lamond!

Yet still - I mightily hesitate,
Could I cross Bifrost in such a mortal state?
My thoughts are all I could sate,
With delusional illusions I forcefully create.

What if I cross it to my own demise -
Only to be tricked eternally by Loki's cunning guise,
Or face Nidhoggr's malefic sting?
Mayhap not even Bifrost to cross - with Heimdall's deadly swing.

No Plagiarism! Adieu.
As I looked around - left and right,
All I saw was darkness - and the smell of dirt,
Not a single ounce of light -
Not a single sound was heard.

I tried to stretch far - but how could I move?
In such a confined space - of rotten wood,
My body - No longer I need to behoove,
It was then - The moment I understood.

I wrote this on the spot, and somehow, I refuse to continue writing it. This could be one of the most mind-disturbing poem I've ever written, as the writer. Feeling weird just writing it. Phew. Aite.

No Plagiarism! Adieu.
Heyo people. So some people told me that I should in fact, not let my poet soul die off. Some say that I shouldn't let my talents go to waste - so I'm considering to write more poems now. So let's start off...with a poem.

As he gazes up the night sky,
He looks around with keenness,
He wished that somehow - he could fly,
To find his beloved Venus.
With nothing to hold -
He could only hope to see,
That one day - Venus will unfold,
For his heart to be free.
But alas - he waits for all eternity - 
What if Venus stays obscure from sight?
Locked in the chains of infinity,
Never again to see the light.
No matter - Still he waits eagerly,
Till then - he stands alone - Bitterly.

-Firaga-

Whew. 
No Plagiarism! Goodbye people.
So I keep writing poems in such a standard, four lines per stanza - I though I might wanna try something new myself. Although the form may seem a bit weird. I think it came out alright.But that's my opinion. Tis' a nameless poem.


My logic is simple,
Although somewhat ample,
Of what begets people,
Yet days cloud man's mind,
There is no curing the blind,
For man's brain is in his hind!
Why can't man see his folly,
Must I guide him on a trolley?
O - such melancholy.
Worldly lusts destroys,
Men are merely toys -
With scarcity in poise.
I hope for man to one day see,
For the world to be soon free - 
From man's self-made decree.

-Firaga-

No plagiarism! Adieu people.