Scar Tissue

She was born pure and simple
Brought into the world so innocent, so delicate
She looked around, desiring knowledge
Yet fascinated only to the unthinkable

And down the pike, she became repulsive
Does not recognise happiness
Though to most, she seems content, calm, at ease

Yet she felt only soreness
The deeper she gazed into her own eyes,
She somehow sees only resentment

She can be high-strung
But often overshadowed by melancholia - her own gloom, the blue devils
Until she reached her depths

Tight-lipped, tongue-tied, close-mouthed, not even murmurs
The girl with the frown would only shrug
And later cut deep into her own skin

And the art on her body were not just scars
The masterpiece placed close to her wrists indicates the end of her war
"Forever fighting a battle," she said. "And the demons have won."

The razor was her paintbrush
Her body was the canvas
But her masterpieces were never on display
Only when she died today

-PRK-

The Butterfly Room

As I get to the swallow hole
You surfaced, kicked to locomote
Often I see you in my sleep
On the boat you were rocking with your thoughts
While the devil makes its round
My songs overwrote the memory
A misquoted wound
A Shakespearean's tragedy

-PRK-

The August Plot

Though the voice was somehow silenced

The soul was resilient

As the wish was obeisant

And the act was independent

Despite the stifles

The wrathful riffles

Gushing through spirals

Playing against the snivels

Flouting the agony

Drowning the ecstasy

Murdering the spawns

Mistreating the fronds

Still the shrieks were garish

The riles were robust

Engrained fear in our nemesis

Smothered them, brewed them powerless

Happy 57th Independence, Malaysia

-PRK-

Shall I... Execute?

Shall I put your psyche to sleep
And desensitize your physique too
Shall I decelerate your drive
And maybe debone you
Shall I thaw your core
And squelch the cognition in you
Or shall we go forth
And never cross this queue
For nothing vex me most
Than stumbling upon you
As it consumes my senses
Continuing to miscontrue
Should you remain permanent
The metropolis belongs to you
Such repulsive landscape
Along with its hue

-PRK-