They Crucified I


In respect for the fallen martyrs. No words can do them right. We feel their pain, or at least a part of it. No one who was not served justice shall stand alone.




The strangled cries of innocents

Poignant aromas filled them, glints

Of the bullets swerving were seen

Grief had a keen

Reminder of loss and pain

Are you done yet, or does the blood allow you to gain

The finest products and luxuries, never mind the obvious fame?

Is that it? The justification of the red rain

Droplets that were chained

To the floors, stains

On the holy grounds

Spattering what is supposed to be a place

To maintain


Alas, what is done is done

Accusation will not help

Rather, lectures shall be held

To qualify the generations’ thoughts into harmless mischief

Of which does not repeat the mistakes of grandfathers’ and whom else

So, farewell my Brothers and Sisters

We hope you lay in grief-

Less wander and joy

For you, at least, should enjoy.




Ello! So, the other day we were discussing the matter of having a sub-consciousness. My friend, Leo lockomora, challenged me to write some kind of writing about it, and I’m not one to shut down a challenge. Like come on, who does that? Ta daaaaaa! This is my acceptance of the challenge. Read with caution; I am not responsible for any mood swings followed after.

This poem was inspired by:

Mansion by NF

Migraine by Twenty One Pilots (DON’T EVER WRITE IT LIKE THIS —> 21Pilots)


Dear Sub-consciousness

What drives you to whisper

Into my ears

Spying through my thoughts

Flickering my decisions

Of right and wrong Continue reading “Salute”

A Letter To Fear


Dear Fear,

In your absence and your presence, I still fear you. If I am being cautious, I am too cautious. If I am being careless, I am too careless; maybe the thrill and adrenaline are messing with my head, and I fear if I did not cave into you -dear Fear- I will get myself into trouble. I neither know what to do with you nor without you. For without you, I will drive head first into shallow waters. With you, though, I will skim my lips on a cup of water, unable to drench my thirst for the fear of the water being unfiltered; therefore, giving Regret a present. Supposedly, in giving we earn. Alas, regret’s way of paying is unwanted; I would rather be poor.

Continue reading “A Letter To Fear”

Numb (2)

Sometimes, a journey is ever-lasting. Maybe it wasn’t a journey at all since it lacked a passion that drove him to not lose himself throughout the way. Faded colours, he was. Plaguing thoughts kept bouncing in his mind. Did he reach past his breaking point? Is it worth the effort to take some paint, brush it on the canvas? Alas, the canvas is already full of Red; there are no spots left to colour. Black wasn’t his storm. Rather, it was a void. It was colourless; it was colourful. It was white; it was black. It was, and it wasn’t. It was an effort enough to know what its mood is today. It is ever so changing. There is no controlling it.

Continue reading “Numb (2)”

Questions From Tushara Olivia

Thank you Tushara Olivia for nominating me to answer all these questions. Self-discovery mission =D


1.What are your nicknames? What do you prefer to be called?

-I don’t have many. One of them is koko. Don’t ask me why XD

2. How often do you doodle? What do your doodle looks like?

Mmm…a lot. Usually in class. They’re either messed-up hands or overlapping lines/circles. It helps me to concentrate when I’m not looking at the person explaining something.

3. What do you do if you can’t sleep at night? Do you count sheep? Toss and Turn? Try to get up and do something productive?

Toss and turn while imagining scenarios happening differently in books. Sometimes though…you know the state in which you’re about to fall asleep, so you’re not exactly conscious; therefore, you do not remember what you were thinking? I just did that when I was taking a nap, and I realized later that I was thinking of food in general. So yes, that’s what I do.

4. Do people consider you as talkative or quiet?

My classmates and teachers consider me talkative, while everyone else considers me quiet. Because I indeed am around strangers.

5.What makes you cry?

Books. Frustration. Absolutely nothing.

6. What is your biggest pet peeve?

-People’s humming and fake smiles/ giggles.

7. How many times a day does you look at yourself in the mirror?


8. What is the strangest thing you believed as a child?

Well…I don’t consider myself an adult but…let’s say what a younger version of me believed. I often thought about marriage (I don’t know why) and I believed that simply I’d ask anyone who I had a friendly liking to consider this prospect. Don’t ask, just don’t.

9. What is one guilty pleasure you enjoy too much give up?

Solving/ studying late at night while blasting music. It’s a great way to relax but stay awake.

10. Who performs the most random acts of kindness out of everyone you know?

My brother, I guess.

11. How often do you read the newspaper? Which sections?

I don’t. I enjoy watching the news rather than reading the newspaper.

12. Which animal scares you the most?

Mmm…you mean what specie. Arthropod specie.

13. Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on?

Head-on. I do not normally plan ahead, and when something comes up, I try to solve it on the spot. Ain’t a planner.

14. What was the most recent compliment you’ve received?

That I wrote a wonderful poem. Thank you everyone!

15. What question are you tired of hearing?

How much do you study? Like, for how long? And also…are you that daughter of (name)?

Um…hello? Is it any of your interest or lifetime curiosity? Seriously.

16. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

It was a vegetable. I do not know it’s name, but I know that it tastes like parsley. Spiky at the end and…yeah XD. Very tasty.

17. Do you have a whole lot of acquaintances or just a few very close friends?

I’ve almost seven or something that I talk to a lot, and others I’m in friendly terms with, so I don’t know which category I fall in.

18. Do you have a catchphrase?

I don’t care what people think about me if they do not know me well. I guess that’s it.

19. What’s your all-time favorite town or city? Why?

I don’t exactly have one. I mean, I obviously love the country I’m living in and it’s neighbour, but it’s not in the level of fondness that it is a favourite, you know?

20. If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to?

I love my name. I won’t change it. But a lovely name is Destiny.

21. When was the last time you lied?

I rarely lie. I mean, at stuff that matter. So I’m not really sure.

22. What’s something that amazes you?

Colours. Death. Life. Human body.

23. Would you rather be the first person to explore a planet or be the inventor of a drug that cures a deadly disease?

The inventor of a drug that cures a deadly disease, like cancer or AIDS. I mean, sure, Pluto is very interesting, but I like Earth and its conditions.

24. What is your favorite amateur activity?

Writing. I’m still an apprentice learning =D

25. What was your first thought when you woke up this morning?

I’m too tired to school. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate school or anything that ungrateful students complain about, I’m just genuinely sick.

26. What is your favourite song (at least at the moment)?

Migraine (Twenty One Pilots)

27. List someone you know, and describe them in five words.

Trust-worthy. Annoying. Funny. Loyal. Supportive. (mystery person ;D)

28. You can select one person from history and have them truthfully answer one question. Who would you select and what would the question be?

Omar Bin-Al Khattab: How were you able to stay strong?

29. Which celebrity or artist you resemble the most?

Dan Reynolds.

30. What do you want me to know?

Don’t judge based on appearances, and don’t act fake. It’s plain annoying and pitiful.

Feel free to ask. =D


Know more abut me; it’ll make stalking easier!









Numb (1)

Hey there. I seriously have to find a name for my readers other than…well…readers. The Lees. Never-mind.

Anyways, today I wrote a piece. Yes, it was a sad piece indeed. This post brings light onto the situation of many, few ever talk about it though. I do know it’s dark. I am aware almost everything I write is not exactly optimistic, yet it is what it is.

“I am aware it’s aggressive
I am not here for acceptance”

NF, Therapy Session.

I’m not a depressed writer who can’t see the good in front of them. I’m not even depressed, nor do I have jaded memories and scars. I do see the good, and I am grateful. I just choose not to write about it. This is my passion. This is what I like writing about. And I’m not changing. All of you have been very supportive so far, and I really appreciate it!

Don’t worry, this piece has a sequel =).


He sauntered alongside the side of the road, ignoring the offer of safety of the pavement. Head bent down, his eyes downcast, he looked at the jagged street, a bit broken from the constant whizzing of cars past it. He gazed up, hopped on the pavement and walked ever so slowly. What’s the point of being in a hurry when you have no destination? His emerald eyes flit everywhere, searching a stranger’s demeanor. Each individual had a story behind their manner, their clothes, and their expressions. Did they have a purposeful pace, leading them to somewhere special, altering their lives forever? Or were they like him…astray, lost in the midst of chaos?

Hours passed by, the beauty of the sunset had vanished, cloaking the world in endless layers and shades of grey and black. Today, the moon had not appeared. Or maybe his eyes do not reflect the light anymore. Dullness is a plague, indeed he believed.

Silence rung through his ears, it is not a comfort so far.

Solitude was his gift, his curse, his legacy like so many before.

Him, he was the chosen one, he embraced so.

He no longer hears, nor does he taste.

He sees.

He sees through the mist, the joy, the sorrow.

He sees through the guilt, the pain and what follows.

 He sees through the smiles, whether fake or not.

He sees through it all, but he does not feel.

His story is of faceless characters woven together.

His story is of villains who ploy with each other.

 His story is of words of which they were forged into swords.

His story is of tactless seemingly pointless invisible gore.

His story is not ending, nor is it beginning.

Perhaps he has no story at all,

For he does not know what anything is anymore.

Quote #4

“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”  

Neil Gaiman. (It’s okay. It’s just a bad day. You’re going to survive.)