Eureka

The Other Side of your Heart Behind the portrait of your eyes, A placid soul lies, Serene as the blue sea, Yet perturbed by its perplexity. For beyond your soul’s silence, Hides a heart torned by turbulence, A dilemma of chance & choice, That mixed emotions would never rejoice. Rapid melancholic beats, Reverberating as it hits, The highest mellow tone, Of a music forbidden by its own, For within that empty space, Lies a memory of a woman’s face, The lady you have loved so dear, Amidst the moment unclear, Pouring all your love unto her heart, Here I am unnoticed since the start, Joys and excitements you had with her, Woes & bitterness alone I suffer. Why hast thou caused me this enigma? Is this love influenced by some dogma? Or a simply perennial feeling of longingness, Caught by a bait of powerlessness, Who am I to move you? Forcefully tell you what to do, For you I am just an ordinary someone, Who could never be that special One. For deep within your heart, I could never repla

Why You? My mind ponders as I reminisce, The memories woven by our existence, And the bizarre fate that hones, Life and its melancholic tones, Yes, you were there, Standing beside me unaware, Of the future that binds us two, Unevitably leaving us no clue, Why then does it have to be you? With the vastness of the ocean so blue, The intricacy of creatures & foes, And the passing epochs of joys and woes, Timidity of my heartbeat unexplainable, Feelings for you seems unbearable, For you I have just been a shadow, Unnoticed as a tiny flower among the willows, Who am I to tell you anyway? You’re near and yet so far away, Your stares and glances reserved enough, For someone who struck you with love so tough, Then why does my heart speak of you? You’re not even my ideal man of cue, I just can’t understand the reason why, Even of catching the thrill of a sly, Everything between us just seems feeble, That I’d rather think it’s impossible, Than to hope for something unreachable, I’ll stay jus

PREJUDICE A thousand times it bit me-- poker face, melancholy, such a coward bravery, is the funny irony. Do I lack self expression? Is it mere discrimination? Strangers, even friends or foe, possess such kind-monstrous rogue. -by Charity T. Fernandez