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The proposition set forth,

Ranges from fame to money

To unmatched abilities to crafty schemes.

But that shall not be my proposition.


Uttering a word, thought, idea

Shall not be my proposition

For silence is the kindest; the thoughtful word.


Complaining about useless faults,

Shall not be my proposition,

For patience is the golden gift.


Rushing for fame and money,

Shall not my proposition,

For the meagre have qualities.


Yearning for company

Shall not be the proposition I seek,

For solitariness is strong.


The transfer of blame,

Shall not be the proposition I seek,

For humility is what I yearn.


Undergoing easy rituals,

Shall not be my proposition,

For one learns to be a human

Only through trials and tribulations.


Ok guys. I am so sorry for not being more consistent with my posts. I have been on a hiatus for almost a month, and I owe you all an apology. Hopefully, now that high school is slowing down a bit and I am getting used to the workload and scheduling, I will be more active on my blog. 🙂 So, sorry again!



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With regret as a boulder weighing on the conscience,

It is with great will must I say,

When the milk spills from the moon,

And it cannot be sewn again,

And the dew flows from the mountain,

Only to burst in a bright explosion of tears,

Then seek knowledge to sharpen yourself

For knowledge is irreversible; is a sword; is hope; and

Only the flame named hope can ignite will in you again.


That September Morning

Funny <b>Autumn</b> <b>Quotes</b>. QuotesGram

That September Morning

That September morning,

When the butterflies dance,

When the golden streams of starry sunlight flow,

When the mist creates an enigmatic aura,

When the night melts away to warmth,

When the moon merges with the Sun,

When the sky, despite the golden stream of warmth, dwell in grayness,

And the wind makes you shiver.


Then you realize.

Autumn is nearly here.


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A canopy, lush,

Slick with dew,

A chilling breeze,

A parrot’s squawk.


The feel of the grass,

The swish of the panther,

The sun’s sweltering glare,

The snake’s hiss.


The sleek dew dripping,

The Ladybird’s beauty,

The shade of the leaves,

The soothing voice of a nightingale.


Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly. - Langston Hughes


The moon’s milky light shone forcefully,

The sea accepted the glare of the moon,

Marble glass, reflecting the light,

Accompanied by the lonely howl of a wolf,

Ruffled the ruffian’s feathers.


The puzzle pieces were all formed,

The light shone through,

The dainty glass sparkled in the ruffian’s eyes,

But then the ripple occurred in the glass,

The picture shattered,

And the ruffian smiled sadly.

Vesuvius: Fiction Once Again

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Vesuvius: Fiction Once Again

A gray haze spread across the sky. Maybe it was an eclipse. Maybe a meteor blocking out part of the sun. Or maybe entirely something else. It didn’t cross the mind that maybe it could have been an eruption of Vesuvius. Perhaps it was because I was too sleepy, having just woken up. But, still, it never crossed my mind.

Well, not until the screams sounded. And not until Alexa came, grabbed my hand, and ran outside, barely saving anything from the measly belongings we had.

She ran as fast as she could across our garden and through the streets. We mingled in with the crowd who were also rushing down the streets, screaming their lungs out.

I certainly didn’t know what was happening. And that is why, at that moment, I chose to slip my hand out of Alexa’s and turn around to see what the whole commotion was about.

As I did, a cold blast of wind hit my face, and I stood there, transfixed in terror. Vesuvius, the once thought dormant volcano, had erupted. Now, terror crept inside me too. And I understood the urgency.

But, I had taken too long to realize that. I had wasted precious seconds just turning round to see what everyone was afraid of. The ash was now falling faster, and the tremors of the earth made me unstable to stand.

I realized all this as I turned around to look at Alexa. Alexa had tripped over something, and she looked me in my eyes as she got up.

She looked defeated. And I knew it then. We both knew it was over. There was no way out now. The ash was falling down rapidly now. The houses and streets were breaking apart. And we both were nowhere the exit of Pompeii.

I looked Alexa in the eyes. “Thank You,” I whispered. “Bye.” As I said bye, something hit me in the chest. Something painful. The pain of knowing that you might not see someone again. Especially your loved one.

Alexa didn’t reply. And I smiled. I would never have thought my end would come like this. Not until I saw Vesuvius erupting. Especially not, until I had seen Alexa’s defeated look.

And certainly, not until the gray ash clambered on top of me, and fear pounded in my eyes. The blood roared in my ears. And blackness surrounded me.