of Erstwhile Crystallis Robles

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Featured Favorite book

By Mitch Albom

Favorite Picture Cutout

This is me!

The Blogger

Welcome to my blog

Featured Favorite Hobby

I Love Biking a lot this month

Practicing

The world told me that when I weighed the particles of dusts in my old dim-lit room, that would be the weight of my importance in the universe... but because of love, of the never-ending love Jesus has brought this Earth, if only I shower that kind of love -- can I weigh greater than the universe itself. I believe that words are powerful creations. I believe that writing is the best form of art.

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They're like ladies waiting for me,
smiling at the thought of how I would touch them gently in my hands,
and of how I would kiss them, hot, under the sun.

I would use my bare hands to shape their beds into soft cottons of loam soil
–in their cradle I would lay them and smile at them while bearing the
three precious words in my lips.

I would tickle their leaves as if it's where their most sensitive parts.
Like hairs, I would pluck the old ones gently, one by one and let them
twist in ecstatic pain. I am their knight, their hero.

I would tell them that they are the ladies and princesses of my life.
I would sing to them like in old stories of angels and heaven.
I would strengthen them with my voice, and make their hearts beat faster.
I would breathe to them love, and I would let them sense the
warmness of my whispers.

Being together, silently, I would embrace them and lay with them in
bed as the rain muds our soaked bodies and wet lips.
I would run my fingertips in their bodies and would tell them that
we would all grow together, forever.

[Repeat: Forever]

They aren't concubines,
I would ensure them.
They're my love ones. They're my wives.

Because when I'm with them, I love.
And when I love, I grow.

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[they dress themselves like animals and yet they call themselves humans.]



-
they smile at the thought of orgasm, and
they squander their lower lips to
kisses and sex.

[as if souls and spirits were of fiction.]

-
their miserable life is unknown to them.
they seek for the most precious thing
in the universe,
-love- yet
they do not know how to seek themselves.

their cries are awful.
their moans are deceitful.

[the echoing rage of pain and sorrow]

-
they smile at the thought of being God, yet
they are slaves of God's perfect opposites.
they progress, yet never move up
and getting rich,
only emphasizes the emptiness

[they know God, really. He made himself known to them.]

-
if only they believe.

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Almost everytime I'd think of you
I remember all the sunset moments we had
--our sweet embraces, and our retired staring with each other.

I miss you everyday
And I guess
perhaps I still love you

-
two days ago, did you notice me flinch when I saw you?
I looked straight at you
but in truth I was scared that you were seeing through my eyes.

I wonder if you realized that behind the comfort of my strong irises was my inner heart
bitterly shaking
and still keeping our now-split world
that I wish I would have a chance to fix
to never end once again.

I know you could still feel my breath,
all the warmth that is whispers of promises and thoughts
I dream for us.
And our hands that would naturally fit perfectly when we're together
again
How I wish you didn't cry.

-
I have kept in my heart all the poems your delicate fingers had written.
Connection fades but never the memories that made us happy.
They mean everything.
You didn't know I also cried over you, right?

-
You are my favorite.

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