There are plenty of different books,
There are many new ideas,
I mean there much to read about much that happened or will happen.
And so the authors did as well.
We write a book to stand alone,
But sometimes we make series in worlds no one lives in,
It’s just the stream of thoughts and stream of mind,
Recovering from reality that is often unkind.
The easier kind is to make a hero run,
Heroes run and enjoy their adventure,
People like the characters and look forward to seeing them
More and more,
I surely I understand because I read as well,
So the journey of a writer begins,
With the first word in a place
Where no one was ever before.
The only author knows what will happen next,
But giving a glimpse of life that is not,
Is something of value as a pure gold.
We write series and write plots,
We write stand alone book too,
But that doesn’t change the world,
But creates new worlds.
You don’t mix ghosts and werewolves,
But you can create a world where ghosts fight werewolves,
Like the book and a film where werewolves fight vampires.
Some books are there to scare,
Some other to entertain,
Some other make us laugh,
But I admire the most books that make us think and ponder.
I know that some books are boring
To some other men,
And some are interesting to them,
When they are boring to me.
But most important part is to be able to read
What makes you wonder, what makes you free.
Some things make more sense than the others.
Some things make us better some other worse.
Schematics. Only Schematics. Make us tick.
The series. Think of it, some stories long for several books.
And some other tend to end just with a hook.
I don’t want to know how it ends for you,
I only want you to know what you, yourself should do.
The Internet is full of scam,
There are these and there are that.
But all of them want to take your money
And make you live in debt.
Fifty percent of deals online,
Are things that you think that better and worth your dime,
But the truth is that the most of the things,
Are the things you don’t need
They make you believe that you want them,
And they at times succeed.
So many scammers online looking for a way,
To make easy living,
What I can assure is that most of them,
They are here to stay,
And as year pass they get craftier and blend with the mass.
People are silly, people are wise,
Crafty scammers seek for your demise,
At first, they charge a little bit and then they switch to bigger
Grid, their greed is the fuel of their deeds.
I can assure as the man who been online since the 2000s
I know most of the tricks,
Because to tell you the truth I fell into some,
It was gruesome experience,
And I even betrayed my own keen,
And made myself run,
But I came back a wiser man,
And hopefully fixed what I have done.
Now I mainly resume into writing,
The keyboard isn’t biting,
I may get a very little pay,
But truth satisfaction and possibility to make it bigger one day
Puts my mind at ease and I feel Okay.
Life is short story,
Google everything before you confirm,
Try to be careful with your dimes
And where they are shown,
After all is not an easy get,
It’s way easier to be scammed
Or waste and get into debt.
I hope you learned a thing or two and
Can protect your wealth too.
Good luck, my dear friend,
The Internet is not going to make on you another percent!
That vague word,
That makes you thrilled and question,
If the result of all your previous actions,
In fact was worth it.
The rhyme that you hear every time
When you close your eyes and look through the mind
You see the aftermath of coming time
Such is the destiny of human mind.
And every time you think about it
Every time your silk on a balcony
Dries up and you know it was right to put it
Under the sun and go away to run,
There is no question about what is done
Because the aftermath is laundry
That is well done.
So our thought like laundry clean themselves
In the whirlpool of different events,
The time passes by and you know what is the price
For everything and all
Under the sun there is only one goal,
To live, to thrive and make it in one piece through it all.
The destiny of demigods is lust and corruption,
That us even among the mortals vast,
Such is the life,
Such is the season,
We multiply without a reason.
A personal excuse of those who dream
About heaven is an aftermath of life
Among the demons.
We are nothing but grains of sand
Of dust, on this pure land,
That is so vast,
We are the people whole through blinks
We are devoted to nothingness that guides us.
And once again I want to propel your actions
That, in fact, do well,
You should sit and meditate about lust, labor, and life
That is so vast.
That every time you look around you see yourself,
Working the ground
And soul fills with pleasure for the aftermath
Is your only treasure.
People should not forget,
That life is only full of debt to those
Who are afraid to a make a step and walk towards
The light ahead.
A coffee mug that stands still,
And makes me move my quill,
I am a writer who drinks a cup of coffee every day,
Like many writers do nowadays.
The step forward,
The step to the dream,
The step toward nothing that demands little to no scream,
Patience is all I need,
Therefore I have time and it will make me succeed.
A coffee mug,
A coffee mug,
I want to know how you are made,
The coffee beans from different parts of the wide world,
A mug that been crafted from China probably in China
That combination is pure gold,
It makes my day, pass along.
The pledge of truth,
To little moment,
The pledge of trust,
To second coming,
I still love my coffee and morning hour,
Even before I leave the tower.
And anyhow you stand on here,
Waiting for a place for you to be made,
Where you could sit and share a moment with me,
A writer with a coffee but inside a writer grizzly.
I’ll make you a coffee too,
Why not? I won’t ask you.
I will stand up and go to the kitchen,
Approach the pot and make the water boil,
I’ll grab a teaspoon and mix wonderful flakes of Jacobs
With white sugar or brown if you like,
It is a sincere mixture of pleasure and delight.
Now that you know,
The simple way to happy moment,
All you got to do is stand up, and boil water,
Grab a paper and a pen while it’s getting hot,
And write a number of words that make you feel good,
In the end, it doesn’t matter if you get misunderstood,
The paper will always accept your state of mind,
You are the only one, one of a kind.
So let it be and grab a mug of coffee!
I stand here still and wonder,
Of a time I took a quill and my hand, stand still,
To make a dot in time,
To make the passage rhyme.
And every time I think of you
You are somewhere where no one knew,
You would be and make it true.
The loneliness of my knights keeps me away from different sights,
I only wander through the past and find pillars there are no fallen,
And I a bug upon this earth that wanders,
But is not yet swollen.
So many things to say,
To convey on white pixel paper.
So many hidden meanings in this play
Of rapid typing and as rapid thinking,
It’s only a fraction of a fraction,
That matters now.
I’m the poet the behemoth of feelings
Who shedding them into this post,
And only time will turn me into a ghost.
Every time someone wanders along the riff
In Tenerife, I splendidly surrender to their drift,
Cause I hadn’t left, with no surprise
With charming melody covering my eyes.
Now that I know,
That all is lost,
That end is near,
I do not succumb to nonsense fear.
I stroll in quite pace towards the grace of death itself,
I know I was not a Lord, a nobleman or even worthy
To hear out you confess,
But there is one thing I know for sure,
It is the truth of those who yet remain pure.
I know it’s so,
I know it is.
I know it with the go,
I know it with the breeze.
The red sea wants to devour my flesh,
But in return, I throw little shallots of a stone,
Into its depth.
Such is the life,
Such is the fraction of a fraction
Of my disguise.
Now I depart.
Without knowing ‘why’
Or ‘why’ I even had to start.
Chat with Eve.
When I find myself a girl named Eve,
What would I chat with her about?
I really don’t know…
Maybe Biblical stuff?
Adam and Eve, kind of stuff?
I don’t know.
All I really wish is to squeeze the girl and make her squeak.
But it is considered brutal, and not too humane, not too modern,
Against the law.
Chat with Eve.
My true nature is outlaw I guess,
A bastard who want to play checkers, not chess.
I want women for their flesh,
As they want me for the cash…
Absurd, don’t you find?
We are both brutal in that sense of mind.
But society keeps talking about love.
What is it really? If not acceptance of wildling in your boyfriend or girlfriend,
Within the limits of Gov.
You know it too.
We are both vandals and brutes, but they won’t show it,
As they show gentleman and ladies of the Victorian age.
I don’t understand really when I try to be nice they see it as weakness,
When I am precise they see it as dullness and savage act of demise.
Am I an elephant or am I a mouse?
I don’t want to talk you into that doubt.
Try and balance the extravagant gent with almighty vandal you care in that hat.
Or chat with Eve.
Chat with Eve.
After all, there is nothing objective between all those who try to thrive.
Every time I think of her, the vandal in me takes as a vandal should, that is for sure.
When I’m laying on a beach and think of myself as of a civilized man who can ignore
Half naked women running around the shore,
I turn into a loser, who is too weak to feel the grasp of nature
That made us the way it did, and what should do is breed. Breed!
Event the bible inquires that. But we are savages dressed in tuxedos driving in limos,
Who aren’t afraid of the threat that rather afraid of multiplicational debt!