I don't want to see any more tears dropping from your beautiful eyes.
They say, tears wash down the curtain that is blocking the vision of yours:
From seeing the reality.
I disagree.
It was 3:30, had I gone to bed early:
A grand night of working, pain and suffering,
All the things that.. Wait, this poem is about you and not me.
I heard a call, my dad went to a journey,
Visit a friend, I knew he is dead.
The whispers of dad echoed in my ears.
I don't know the father of yours, have seen him once,
A bottle of chinese liquor he gave me, remains eternal on my bookshelf.
You are older than me, yet I call you my daughter.
Everyone needs one to sooth, one needs to be soothed,
I came to mend your mind.
I did not even see you that night,
Yet I heard the screeches and cries,
Loud cloud of thunder tearing down on ground,
Tearing down the ground.
Each drop was an earthquake in my room.
I refer to you as my daughter,
For I want to tell you how I would feel if I was your father.
I am free, for I was not killed but from the child within,
A suicide without a note, marks of a clean home and open window,
Ashtray full of nuts and not ash,
For it is, from ash to ash.
I remain eternal in your thought,
The phoenix.
If you love me, do understand, I am free!
No pain, no suffering, no white-light the bible told me,
It was my life, I chose what to do.
If I can't control my own life, what should I do?
You deserted me and forgot me,
Found my dead body after 5 days of rotting,
Not the way I loved you tenderly when you were younger.
World changes, people do change, I remained constant:
Now in ashes.
From ashes, to ashes.
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