“You’re a creation of my own heart, moving swiftly in between my words; masking every thought. feeding on every emotion & leaving traces of emptiness in a soul full of longing.”

Your mistakes don’t define you, what you choose to do to fix them does.

There is an empty place in my heart where i’ll grow a garden using the love you’ve planted.

Seek the love that you deserve & only then will you learn the value of self-worth.

How will we learn to fly if we never allow ourselves to fall?

Sometimes in the act of moving on you relive pain everyday until there’s nothing left to feel anymore.

They say love comes in waves; yours is the only ocean I’m willing to drown in.

I’m stuck reliving old memories. moving aimlessly from one memory to another, in hopes of finding solitude; a serenity I never got to experience.

We’re a creation of words, constantly looking for acceptance in places we don’t belong.

To grow up is to experience all sorts of heartaches & still manage to see the beauty in every pain.

To love you is to drown every day & still crave the taste of the ocean.

Just like flowers; we shed, only to learn how to prosper again.

I was left with a fragile heart yet, I learned to embrace all my broken pieces.

You were a beautiful dream but dreams dont last long.

I’m seeking endings for tales that have never begun.

You will know your worth eventually & you will heal with time; slowly, yet beautifully.

We drift through life seeking second chances only to lose them once they’re given to us.

We get closer to God as we get more intimately and understandingly acquainted with the things He has created. I know of nothing more inspiring than that of making discoveries for one’s self.

If a writer doesn’t generate hostility, he is dead.

We all grew up idolizing another musician. That’s how this works. That’s how music is created.

God would not have made the universe as it is unless He intended us to understand it.

The pioneer scientist must have “a vivid intuitive imagination, for new ideas are not generated by deduction, but by artistically creative imagination.”

The poet, by composing poems, uses a language that is neither dead nor living, that few people speak, and few people understand We are the servants of an unknown force that lives within us, manipulates us, and dictates this language to us.

Ever since Two Daughters I’ve been composing my own music.

There is literally nothing that I ever asked to do, that I asked the blessed Creator to help me to do, that I have not been able to accomplish.