Growth

Love is a sickness, a plague, a villain.
Ill begotten will; withered flowers long lost.
I am nourish and happy just as I am.
Empty vases of lost memories I no longer regret.
A garden blossoms beyond decaying bitterness.

Serenity

In solitude beneath the thousands stars,

Ponderances of old stories from times so far,

Of glisten eyes, of love untold,

Of a silence in sweet forebode,

Sat in stillness; listen to the muted night,

Whispering leaves under moonlit sky,

A memory of honeycombs like tender embrace;

Ingrained eternally, peaceful moment in grace.