fated-innocent

FATE

I chose to love you, to hold your hand, and kiss your lips. I chose to memorize your every smile and funny quirks. I chose to have you look into my eyes and tell me you love me.

But now I feel like I didn’t. Somewhere deep down I know this was fate. We were meant to meet so suddenly, so unexpectedly. We were meant to grow close, to trade friendly love for an amorous kind.

We were also meant to fall out of love.

You were meant to see my harsh, calculated character and I was meant to see your lying, ignorant ways. We were meant to have this heartbreak break us till we think of nothing but each other.

So thank you fate, you have ruined me. You have taken a girl, so innocent to the cruelty of the world, and dipped her fingers in this pot so that she could taste a bit of Hell. And thank you fate, for taking that beautiful boy and destroying his heart.

I choose to look at this as fate’s fault. Maybe because I’m a romantic or maybe because I choose not to blame him.

Innocence - L’étranger

Walking down the beach before the incidence
Gun in my pocket, followed by my rival’s impudence
nasty burning sun, blurred vision, random facts of coincidence
gun in my hand, face to face, now what makes the difference?
I don’t recognize myself anymore, yet I feel the imminence
Like Beethoven’s fifth, 4 shots into his chest, moments of suspense
Sudden moment of realization, act of insolence
merged with my fate, breaking apart my innocence

(P.L.)


[poem inspired by Albert Camus work “L’étranger” and dedicated to thestoriessoftbroken]

cheerfulcheckers asked:

“We’re under attack! Light the signal!”

“I’ll light the signal if you stay low!” There was no time to think at this point. With the ground shaking of what felt like the drums of war coming near, it would only take a few moments before the invading demons come and turn the village into smoldering ash. As the bare sky expose a new moon, the fate of the innocent is solely depended on the determined slayer and his family. Suit on and his fingers coiled around his Kusarigama, he peered his eyes over his shoulders, catching a glance of his friend behind him.

“I know what you’re thinking and I want you to forget about it. Whatever you do, you do NOT leave this hut. Still hidden, still safe. I don’t care if you hear me snap in half out there. You have to stay here, you got that, Rin?”

O’ War

shoot a man for oil return him to the dirt,

it may be lucrative, but his family hurts,

make him fight against his faith,

to keep the country secure unlike his fate,

innocent homes, now in dust

the love of money in God we trust,

the endless cycle that ’s old as time,

lands conquered, never the mind

lives lost, rich over poor

the lust and greed that is called war.