The Finale: Make It Big, Make a Boom

I won't waste your precious time in a rigmarole of knotty poetry. I won't even attempt to present a plethora of incoherent and excited words as I used to do. I simply chose to end this in a short way yet struggling to leave a lasting impression on you. This desire menaced my mind profoundly, I swear.

It has been a blog of severe poetry and recherche ruminations. Of all, this has been the dearest to me. I won't elaborate why as I have all the right to keep it to myself.
And so we've come to the end of the line as all earthly things should-; but, as what others say, the end is only the beginning. What beginning awaits hereafter, I dare not to discuss yet as it is all a mystery to me.

What I want to leave you is this: there will be one moment in your life that will come- when you realize that all that you are, all that you have, all that you desire, all that you want to be- are all worthless. It will ruin you severely. It's through this sufferring you will be purified. And after that, you will marvel at a change that will take place in you. You will come to understand a "meaning" that has been so incomprehensible and was absent before.

Pardon me because this farewell is too long already. But all of this should be settled here. Just bear in mind that life is always so mysteriously beautiful. Let's welcome Phoebus in his radiance!

Chimera

I lost my dream-
or I have been lost in it.
It was a dream of a dreamless dreamer.
It was like rain falling into the endless and
bottomless sea.
It was me-
The one who wandered in the land of the forgotten,
In that God-forsaken heaven.
I wish I could sleep more-
so I could dream more.
And as I wished my eyes remain open,
And I heard the loud silence.
Sleep walks all through the night,
And hides from the daylight.
Which is the waking world, I am not sure.
Maybe the one that was imperfect yet pure.
Maybe it was the beautiful and perfect,
or maybe it was the life after death.

. . .

What sort of hideous thing gives man such airs of superiority to disrespect a woman? What is this thing that makes them cease existing as men and evolve into detrimental scoundrels? We are brought face-to-face with dark times- the extinction of noble men and the rise of the swarming beasts.

. . .

What a fortress of security! But, is it worth it- to give up such loony dream which gives infinitesimal yet priceless meaning to existence-   for the sake of this fortress? Am I not a misunderstood wretch?

. . .

In a world that operates on a credo of quid pro quo, how else will man learn the value of selflessness? How else, but through a broken and rueful heart that bleeds for the misery of strangers.

. . .

Self-effacement is freedom. I seek to surpass pride and envy- the perfect impediments to inner harmony. By all that I hold most sacred, I will not relinquish this unshakeable thing my heart is firmly holding on to.

. . .

What I would have given up just to have this inexplicable serenity! After all the chaos- the almost endless rising and falling of the tempest within such troubled heart- comes peace. It swooped down to kill like the angel of death. And it finally killed me without mercy. Me- the callous, cynical and proud egoist. How is it that I am worthy of such peace when all my life I went on living, getting angry and not knowing?