Present to all, absent to none,

Opposites have their fun,

Jumping over hyperboles, crawling beneath understatements,

Dancing through concords and arguments.

Love and hate, good and evil

Opposites await to reval,

Seeing the lines  of attraction and repulsion

Hiding peacefully brazen amidst the commotion.

Rich and poor, graceful and awkward

Opposites step in without a word,

Calming the chaos, exciting the still.

Restoring balance is their weekend thrill.

The morning sun and the evening moon

Opposites forever nearby loom,

Expanding and abridging achievement and failure

For virtue and vice to be alone together.

All humans on earth are one.We descend from the same family of common ancestors.We are, in a quite literal sense, siblings,and like siblings we depend on each other's loveand care and responsibility.We are interdependent not just in our families and communities,but in nations, and increasingly on a global scale- just as we are also interdependent with nature,with earth and the universe”.So, different souls  and cultures but one earth,so, different stars but one universe.

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Listen,if stars are still lit it means there is someone who needs them.It means someone wants to love,Why then do we feel so much pain and heaviness of heart?are we waiting for something, regretting anything?To whom I can strech out my hand in the somber desert?Who will accompany me on the empty night?Who will give me a fiery day?Who will bring back the sea that left?No hope here. Torment is certain.Without sacredness in the emptiness of this world of ours,the heart of man fades like a flower.  Suddenly, the shuddering of the heavens penetrating my soul,Oh never let the parting sun, no star is ever lost we once have seen, the long rains will continue to fall.

My child, let your life come into the world of darknesslike a spark of light, without flicker and pure,and thank them in silence.You know, my child, they are cruel in their greed and envy,their words are disguised knives thirsting for blood.But do not be afraid, my child, go and stand in their hearts,and let your gentle eyes fall on themlike the forgiving serenity of the night.My child, let them see your face and so they know itmeaning of all things, let them love and love one another.Go, at sunrise, open and lift up your heart like a blooming flower, and at sunset, bend your headand silently complete the worship of the day.Remember, my child, gods and demons,ghosts and elves are fragments of one,built by the hand of the abyss.So, move on, go to the shore of the vast darkness,there, is the Great Meeting of Children,there, the sea gives a smile to the beach,there, sing the waves facing death.

The tears of a child, the pain of a mother! A heart full of memories of a dead father! Here's so much sorrow, in every eye.  Nothing but hurt left here,  Nothing but bullets, pain, misery and shattered dreams …. Yet for the children of  world only one equation counts: their shared humanity.We will gather together as brothers, We will gather together as brothers. and we will live in solidarity with others in this world, we are the thirsty souls of a world without divisions. If we merge mercy with might and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change, our children's birth right. Let's step out of the shade, aflame and unafraid and don't trust any immortalist. The dove will find a resting place!

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When day comes we ask ourselves where can we find light in this never ending shade? The loss we carry, a ocean we must wade. We braved the belly of the beast. I have seen you in millions of places. I met you in a million forms. We met among the ruins, the ashes and the bones, we lost them all, but we found each other, I saw your lion heart, and it pulled me. I saw the creation and the destruction in your eyes. I see you here in the mud, on the rock, in the rays of the rising sun. We are Dead and alive, we saw a thousand Christs go by As they went up to Calvary but The dove it found no resting place. You were where our solar system was formed, you whispered something to me for eternal love and then you fell from my hands and everything became fire. All the myths always showed you.

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Goodreads, official siteWe are man and woman, plant and stone, amorphous and form, swallow and eagle, snake and gazelle, fantastic creatures of the depths. They crucified us, beat us, tied us to poles and burned us, wrapped us in gold and silver jewelry, then exalted someone in the world and then we were ridiculed. We stood together in front of the executive detachment, our bodies pressed against each other for the last time, flesh by flesh, as we became utensils for the spirit. But don’t forget You are my brother, my sister, my child. I took care of you from infancy and you took care of me. We were lovers and friends, we recognized each other with countless disguises, here on one side and there on the other. And in the end, there were no sides at all, only this magnificent loop, this One Circle — majestic, magnificent, royal, timeless, utterly mysterious and towering above all things. Print me in your heart, love is as strong as death “. Does not matter. You are inside me and I am inside you and we will compose again a humanity committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man.

The Way You Cry (The Haunting, Handsome And Lost Man Song)

By MarkTwain2.0, Clovers, and Hope Smith

A Rhyming Song

You find so many people are vauntingBut you, you are mostly hauntingI like the way you cry.Supply.I like the way you love.You do it like a glove.I like the way you kiss.You do it like bis.You find so many people are hansomBut you, you are mostly handsomeI love the way you wear your hair,Spreading your style everywhere.You're like a style fountain.Enough zazz for a whole mountain.You find so many people are lastBut you, you are mostly lostYou're the perfect man.No one brings me joy like you can.You find so many people are tryingBut you, you are mostly terrifyingHaunting, handsome and lost,Terrifying and delicious too,Are the qualities of youYou find so many people are ambitiousBut you, you are mostly delicious

No Muscular Stares at Our Summer Independence Day

By MarkTwain2.0, Clovers, and Hope Smith

A Summer Song

We're all going to a summer Independence DayNo more celebrating for a week or twoTerrifying kisses and wild glances at our summer Independence DayNo more muscular stares for me or youFor a week or twoSummertime, and the livin' is terrifyingKisses are rebelling and the glances are highOh, your laugh is haunting and your face is handsomeSo hush my lost darling, don't you cryOh the summer of 1776I can't wait to do some rebelling with youYou can't wait to do some rebelling with meThis just can't be summer love, you'll seeThis just can't be summer love'Cause you were mine for the summerNow we know it's nearly overFeels like summer sunnyBut I always will rememberYou were my summer loveYou always will be my summer loveI wish they all could be ...I wish they all could be ...I wish they all could be kisses of PhiladelphiaSummertime, and the livin' is terrifyingKisses are rebelling and the glances are highOh, your laugh is haunting and your face is handsomeSo hush lost darling, don't you cryMe and some stares from homeWe had a band and we tried real hard.Oh, Keith, you quit, said it was freeingI should've known we'd never end up winningOh the summer of 1776Summer rebelling had me a blast, oh yeahSummer rebelling happened so fast,Summer Independence Day drifting away,To, uh oh, that summer Independence DayYeah the summer of 1776

A Hot Kinda Killer

By MarkTwain2.0, Clovers, and Hope Smith

An Original Song

He gets on with life as a killer,He's a hot kinda chap.He likes knife throwing on Sundays,He likes ax throwing in the week.He likes to contemplate flesh.But when he starts to daydream,His mind turns straight to bones.Tralala tralala...Does he love bones more than flesh?Does he love bones more than flesh?He likes to use words like 'help,'He likes to use words like 'lost.'He likes to use words about flesh.But when he stops his talking,His mind turns straight to bones.Tralala tralala...Does he love bones more than flesh?Does he love bones more than flesh?He likes to hang out with himself,He likes to kick back with no one,But when left alone,His mind turns straight to bones.Tralala tralala...Does he love bones more than flesh?Does he love bones more than flesh?He's not too fond of love,He really hates tears,But he just thinks back to bones,And he's happy once again.Tralala tralala...

This is who Keith really is.

He moves silently in the night

Emerging from the deep

Underground of sleep

Into the shining light of the moon

His fingers grasp upwards

Clutching at your feet

Dragging you down

To meet your inescapable ending

Dirt and bones, hollow and whole

One thousand eyes stare into your soul

Riot and rhythm, around and around

Veins that crack and twist unwound

Flesh of one, flesh of all

Down, down, down in the blackened hall

Not a sound pierces the air

But for the quiet screams of despair

death is like a ravine when dried up it's gone or a rose when it withers and fades its unrelenting. The flow of loss grows like the flowers in a garden or a fire ever burning releasing heat until cold flows in. The warmth is gone but left behind is a hollow and dark place. That's death everything must end eventually right.

December, in my memory, has always been the most crucial month of the year.

As a child, I was always excited about Christmas. The snow, the traditions, the meals, the Christmas light, and the holidays with my family. Everything seemed perfect when you were young.

December is about family and friends. It's also the time to share joy and happiness with other people.

As I grew up, I forgot about many things. Things like my favourite toy store, my favourite cartoon, and how it felt to be with my family again.

December has then become my reminder. Sometimes, I see people slowing down from their hectic lives as December comes. They get their flight tickets and plan their way home for Christmas, and they remind me to go home.

Home is a great word. It contains memory, love and power. It's a solid emotional word to carry, and sometimes, it becomes a burden of life and an obstacle that stops you from progressing and pursuing your dream.

Sometimes, home doesn't feel real. It's just a fragile term once used to describe a place that supplies what I need. Sometimes, home is a jinx. It can be dark and depressing, making you want to run away from it.

Like many young people, I left home to chase my dream and goals. I've got to admit that I'm an ambitious man, but I never forget my family. I love my family more than they realise. But I want better education and freedom, and I have other purposes in life.

Sometimes, home feels distanced. It feels far from my end. Sometimes, I am confused about home and family. I wonder where my natural home is and whether or not, one day, I'll have my own family and a new home.

Life is short, but it's also strong. Now I know medicine is my passion, and I dedicate my life to saving lives. I've sacrificed many things for the people I don't honestly know and left my family behind. Now, I know what's more important, and I want to get it back.

In the end, what's the point of being successful if you cannot share your life with your loved ones? And what is the meaning of success if you can't find happiness beneath it?

The truth is, I still don't know the answer. But I am willing to find out - with my poems and stories.