The Chancellor

I exist in an ambiguous space and time
Where the city is turning mad
With evildoings and violence taking its toll
Often I wish I was far away
In the sounds of silence
Nothing but peace at the border of the town
Maybe in the woods, perhaps the hills
Where I don't feel that I should change my name
My address and identity in the hope of finding freedom
Where I don't have to live in the shadow of fear
A certain power that will always hunt me down

I am consumed by my pursuit to survive where I am
My desire is to come out of the clutches of somewhat a tormenting other half
Often they say that sometimes it takes the darkest hour of our life
The fear of death, to regain our consciousness back into life
I am not just one person
I am that two lives
The completely symbiotic nature of a couple
Constantly in our darkest hour
Going against each other
Like a relationship that has already fallen apart
That is moving fast towards its end

"But do not lose hope", they say
As I wander on empty streets every passing night
As I lose myself to my relentless angst towards somewhat an unyielding life
"Your life is an anthology. Your chapter is not done yet."
I answered them, "but it is not and never was mine to write.
I am never my own person.
I am a puppet.
My life began with an incessant harassment by that I should never mention.
I was pushed to a corner, to take the extreme step.
I never meant to end a life.
I never wanted to take a life.
All I wanted was freedom.

And come 1945."

-PRK-

That Losing End

You assumed you knew me
And you stereotyped me
Not realising you're stereotypical
That you're just another one
Who's afraid to take up a challenge
And unfortunately, born with inferiority complex
I thought you'd be the one
But you've decided that I'm not your match
And you missed the simplicity in me
Blinded by what you want to see
And what they made you see
You didn't want to tolerate your time and circumstances
You didn't give it a chance to nurture
You worry too much about the needs and demands
But it's your lost
I could have made you happy
Be the one you'd love the most

-PRK-

Within The English Village

As I walk down the streets, wide and narrow streets, l often imagine them
Braving trashings, insults, death threats, batons, teargas, water cannons, the works
And with thousands of riot police trying to break up the protests and strikes
A force to be reckoned with, me, as part of them, hope to perhaps make history again
A history where behind the cloak of fear,  the gale of creative destruction would be unleashed
To be set free to put an end to the unrealistic demands, the catastrophic social implications and the political games of those from every sides of the divide

Of course in my mind, I'm very much controlled,
I'm very much prepared to rein in the masses against the authoritarian rules and religion
Ready for the straight journalistic report of the biting satire and classical literary themes
If not ever-ready to dance along to the euphoric political rallies 
But these are just my imaginations, my wish and hope to be the vanguard of change
And often I wonder, would it have meant a triumphant journey if I know what exactly am I defending, what exactly am I fighting for

Often I don't
Often I'm torn
Often all I see is a thin line instead of a silver lining
Often we all don't
Often we are still trying to comprehend what transpired the previous day's curiosity 
And often it's the biased ideologies
Within the English village
In which we are often bullied into submission, to keep mum
By the ruling elite and the flawed system

-PRK-

Weltschmerz

I've had my chapters before I met you
Chapters that were passionate in the beginning that ended with
"You love me until you don't."

One chapter died without closure; as if I was left at the altar
Years spent trying to understand the holy mess
Years wasted trying to weave and mend what's broken
Only to uncover later it never really matters
I was in agony

Chapter two then began just as hope was about to cease
But abruptly it ended with
"You're not very Christian for me."
Frankly I find that pathetic; it wasn't worth my tears
Though I went to bed after a few bottles of beer
I was in agony

Chapter three isn't worth mentioning
Pure lust on one end and it ended slowly with treachery
Then a 'modern romance' sparked
Lecherous, hostile, revolting, revengeful; I hated everything
I was in agony

The fourth chapter... It was a soap opera
The kisses scorched me
My body trembled every time he pulls me closer
Two hearts together, and I thought
"This probably is the beginning of my last chapter."
I was wrong and I thought
"Forever is over."
Again.. I was in agony

And here is a new chapter... Are we writing it together?
Or will I be the one pulling it together?
Once again be in agony?

-PRK-

Rosebud

Garden pink, rather modest, much too cute
So innocent, so many things to refute
Had no guts to hold you, I was irresolute
Couldn't digest how to somehow reconstitute
Outraged I was, as I thought I couldn't suspire
I thought your beingness would perhaps scotch my desire
I thought you'd purposely make me somehow misfire
I supposed the creator and you once walked through the fire

-PRK-

Tewas

Lagaknya berani, bagai seorang pahlawan
Terkadang bongkak, lenyapkan kebaculan
Jijik sungguh, persis sorotan perzinahan
Khayalan yang gempita dilarut nistaan
Namun itu semua bayangan maya yang sepi
Kelancangannya ghaib bila dia sendiri
Tubuhnya gentar dibedil realiti
Jiwanya lemas ditindas fantasi
Kerna walaupun bingit, dia rasa bisu
Mulut terbuka, lidah terkedu
Di senjakala dia mula sendu
Cuba dileburkan, dia beradu
Namun gelap itu kekal
Terang itu terbatas
Andai si satria itu cekal
Mustahil dirinya dibiarkan tewas

-PRK-

Once A Tale

There was a tale that I didn't understand
Couldn't put my finger on it but I tried to comprehend
There were so much words I never spoke of in the end
But there was such a notion I constantly seek to melt in
The warmth was familiar, the intimacy too
Though one thing is peculiar - the trust I had in you
The walls around us couldn't hide a tone so true
But the wall between us is yet to be incised in two
You were broken and I was torn apart
You tried to act cool but it's reaching your heart
And me and my pride couldn't seem to part
But that was then, now you've dethawed my heart
Unconsciously yet a libellous one
And the fear begin, we were both toyed once
And why must this tale begin to confuse me again?
When will this tale flows easy for me to understand?

-PRK-

Vessels In Line

So I found myself turning to pot likker
Not once, not twice, and the standard is gold, not silver
It's always a new taste, a new mix, a new remedy
For the same wound, the same scar, the same tragedy
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked myself
But there's never an answer better than the top shelf
The vessels are there, I never meant to have them
They keep flowing and I'm too weak to stop them
If I could let it go, I wouldn't turn to one
But I need to stay high to not think of you even once
What have you done?
No. Sorry, what have I done?
It was served on ice and garnished with pineapple
It was cold, it was sweet, it was everybody's pleasure in quadruple
They looked happy and so I thought I would too
But when the hangover begins, I began to miss you
At least I thought I was missing you
Or was I trying to be you?

-PRK-

The Rove Beetle

It snapped like a twig, adust and aged
Erupted into debris, spaced and misplaced
Scattered in the night sky, soon interlaced
A journey with no end, only to be retraced
By a chain of reactions, the earth had vouchsafed
For such a being with such curio, the past had enslaved
Soon as the sun awakened, reflections then displaced
And the twig remain malformed yet unscathed

-PRK-

Redundant Twerk

As I was going to work
I could feel the breeze twerk
I could feel the shapeless shadows lurk
Then my clutch went cigarette jerk

What was that I asked
I then felt my past walked pass
Felt so real, a dark aghast
A mystical rainbow in contrast

It's alright, I told myself
It's only until twelve
Neither it's a pack nor a commonwealth
It's just a certain emotion, no need to oppress

-PRK-

Love Seat

Never meant to make you wend
Never meant to make you misspend
I intended to represent
The actual mistrust I've underwent

As the illusions I've apprehended
Had me reoffended the warmth they recommended
Delusional and consumable, I then pretended
That every piece are unamended

For such passion is inevitable
My confessions are dimensional
Of which each of them will be skeptical
To those who are prophetical

So relinquish that desire
Of which you will soon misfire
For I'm one you will encipher
For the waiting is now kitschier

Mercy, Much?

You said I owe you kindness, your highness
Like you're the highest of the highest
One that sits on a chrome coated Prius
But that's blindness
Because all I see in you is the nicest vileness on dialysis
Taking advantage on the salvages
Because you've got money for the randomness in life
You're that activist who fights for your spotlights
You're terrorizing those who implies their skills in life
But clueless about your idolized disguise
But I owe you nothing
None of those act of saint mean anything
Because get this, what's worse in you, I've seen
You're that cake with a slaying icing
Not an ice cream, my darling

-PRK-

That Staged Enigma

A flexitime has been given to the human race
Even the shrine was titivated by the human's faith
The cruellest phase came right after the rumour's spread
A concubine then bestow us with the devil's face
With the secretion of a somewhat bittersweet taste
Dripping leisurely to erect another grace
A unique breed with fairly a similar encase
One of which only the brilliance know how to retrace
It's hard to deface sometimes something so apace
For many of us cares no more than about the space
The one we need to be somebody no one can replace
And when we gaze into the night, life's a cabaret

-PRK-

That Big Sigh

Looking at the sky;
I thought I saw a dark shadow
When I lift my hands up high,
I try to let go of my sorrow
And the moment that I cry,
I guess I was just feeling so low
Trying to still be that kind
Who struggles hard for life tomorrow

Now don't get me wrong,
For it's only in my writing
Whenever things go wrong,
I'd buck up and start rhyming
Faith was never gone,
Though often times I'd be mumbling
Hope has always won me
When at times I'd feel like dying

When at times I could feel
The nails are slicing through my skin
It hurts quite as much
As barbs poking through my skin
Happens mostly at times
When I'd crave for such chagrin
When all I needed was
A reality check that's condign

For all I'm feeling now is rage
The kind that destroys my charade
Not much of need now; this adage
For I'm in need of a parade
Or a grenade...
It depends...
I think...

Diabolus

I tried to picture how that's possible
Tried to equate with that parable
I told myself it'll be implausible
That massacre in my head is just horrible

It's just too nauseous to put my finger on it
It's too malicious to put my feelings to it
He's been feeling exquisite with his fingers in it
Quite an exhibit though if the board was on it

But the walls were up, the thorns were out
Her voice was gone, something to live without
Slowly she started to bleed down the walkabout
She was plainly nothing but a forged devout

For the tingle she had to soothe was that of a saint
A saint to the public who triggered off the pain
In the drape, he was a diety who appeared so plain
Hadn't it been his crusty coat, he'd melt in the rain

But the story goes as the artiste shows
How the stanzas grow with its tingling claws
That the truth, now and then is in front of you
It's a matter of time for it to breed in you

For the one you anticipate isn't the one you need
When the one you abominate lifts you off your greed
As memory itself is merely a game
A game of trusting your inner tame

-PRK-

That T Junction

So I proceed
Like nothing was going to break my stride
I refused to leave anything untried
Even when some ties then became untied
I wished I wish for it to subside
Unfortunately I kept getting defied
At times even when astried
I begged for immunity to betied
But I was born partly fictional like Hyde
Cragfast between junction
Precasted between replusion
Classed between gumption
Confused between eruption
And oddity erection
But I did proceed
Towards that T junction in greed
A while later out of misread
Realised slowly I could mislead
And satisfaction wasn't guaranteed

-PRK-