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Coffee

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"Isn't this view beautiful?"
"Oh, you can see the bridge from here?"
"Yeah. You let me down and I'll jump down that bridge. Then you're to blame!" I said playfully while he leaned against the seat. One cheekbone raised, the hint of a smile at the edge of his lips. 
"I'll be watching you do just that from here, enjoying my coffee. One like this."

I stroke the ice cube. My arms gently touched the table. Except for the song that brought me back to when I was 20, many things are now different. Like this seat across me, the air is vacant.


Dissidia

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The fight for apprehension on losing verdicts
The bidding of alibis on war torn lands
Tenebrous horizon draw blanket over our creaks
Synchronising gunshots to our aegis grand

We the citizens, your truth and your plight
Lest forget what commemorates your fight
Where the sun sets iron bars blind all sight
Where the sun rises they warm seats all night

Watch as gents in tuxes laugh in the face of our departure
And grey clouds sink our souls into bed-less river

How in sane words are our guns replacing God
Our beliefs a deception, and pure minds outdone
In reaching to you with a stroke to your heart
My bullet in your eyes, your fate almost mine

You alone are your life
And with us our keys to survive
They are not the ones of purebred drives
To trust in uncovering our strife.

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