Where the River Meets the Sea


I thought I have slipped by mistake
In the river flowing strong
Pushing me away–away from land
In the silence of a fading song
As I keep my breath, raising my hand
I’m drowning in, going in the depths
I must have lost myself in defeat
But suddenly the waters glow
As crystal fragments show
And swarms of living creatures
Filled the waters with life
And I’m there with the flow
And breathing beneath the sight
No–I have not slipped by mistake
My old comfort zone’s a fake
For my home’s in this river of grace
Where it meets the sea in its wake

© Cyrustale 2016

This poem is written as I feel so brokenhearted about how my plans of going home was ruined. These are times when my Daddy God is teaching me about getting close to His heart and I’m not giving up whatever the circumstances may be for where I am right now is where He put me to grow best. This poem reminds  me of the message of Ezekiel 47:9:

Swarms of living creatures will live wherever the river flows. There will be large numbers of fish, because this water flows there and makes the salt water fresh; so where the river flows everything will live. (NIV)

I am breathing within this intersection of the river and the sea making everything grow in abundance. Thank You Jesus!


“The Concealed Past”

“Etealune,” He shrugged as tears slowly filled his eyes to the brim, “Where are you when I needed You the most?”

He felt a sudden sense of heaviness within his heart. Whenever he speak the name of this Person, he was left dumbfounded in awe. The more he think about Him, the more the memories awaken like an unforgettable scent unfurling from the depths of his memory–making him smile a bit. It was several years ago when he and Etealune met, the very same time he knew the essence of His character reflected in His name which means “eternity” according to the ancient tongue.

As his hope and strength slowly regained, he noticed that the book he carried on his back glowed a faint light like a single star trying to shine in the middle of the darkened sky.

He opened the book only to see the glowing phrase that melt his heart with joy. “Was yea erra lhasya yanje…” He recited the words aloud upon the assurance of His promise as he know what Etealune is saying.

“I am with you forever and I’m very much happy and I want this to last for eternity.”

-Cyrustale, TheConcealedPast (Unpublished), circa 2016

#Abba #EtenalSelfExistingOne #ThePlot #Deconstruction #Cyrustale

Fragments Of Cyrustale

He begged her to go with him aboard the airship to escape the impending catastrophe, promised to take her to the places where he had been–for her to know his world but she sadly declined and told him her heart is set on other things.

The airship lifts and the wind consumed it–never to be seen again.
-Cyrustale, The Silver Storm(Unpublished), circa 2016Castle

Random Memories of a Daydreamer

I have only seen her several times, but whenever she’s near, it feels like a whole new world is before my eyes. The way she smile, the way she move, the way her head sways at the rhythm–are just some of the factors that makes my heart beat the hell out of me. At that moment then, I am in awe and wonder. I am so amazed at how someone like her could ever make me feel this way. Someone who can mesmerize me and fill me with hope again. Seeing her in a distance, my heart could leap out of my chest. Whenever she talked, I feel like I’m losing my words. I never wrote about her the way I wrote about others. She’s so perfectly rare. I wish I could hold her hand again just like that time I held hers in the pool and I still recall the way she gripped my arms back. I wanna sing a new song and read my poems to her just like that time when we were on an abandoned train station on a bright summer day and her hair dances with the wind. ^_^

Sigh daydream pa more.


Once Upon a Metaphor

We all love to fantasize. A simple idea circled our brain giving birth to different streams of thought until a connection and pattern emerges and the idea evolves into either a mystical character, machine, culture, language or even a new world. After that, books came into existence, and an unlimited supply of awe and wonder continues to thrill the curious minds—and the cycle goes on.

However, as marvelous as the process may seem, most pieces of knowledge usually begins with “a lump in the throat” as quoted by Robert Frost. There are times when an author find it hard to start the piece, either by looking for the perfect words, rhymes or rhythms to use, or as a result of lack of words, found it better to use figures of speech as a means to illustrate or exaggerate a situation.

Furthermore, since the beginning of time, our ancestors used parables, myths and fables to explain the origin of mankind, describe the indescribable and fascinate the younger minds. We all live in a story-stricken world where plain words are just not enough to communicate a thought or feeling. We need to play with words and this is where I begin to recollect some important memories.

I remember when I was an elementary student questioning myself as to why we need to learn about those figures of speech but as I grow older, I realized that using those makes the explanations of things easier. When I reached high school, I was amused when the topic is about idioms and decided to study these literary devices.

I started simply with simile as it basically is a comparison between two similar things connected by using the word ‘like’ or ‘as’ such as making the softness of clouds the softness of things of the same nature. Next, metaphors grow into shape as it did become an apple to my eyes and a key to vast world of poetry.

It was in third year of high school when I started creating my first poem blended with figures of speech entitled, “Brokenhearted,” a poem by which my choice of words clearly unveiled the shadow of Edgar Allan Poe’s melancholy. Thanks to my best friend, Keith that I was able to realize what a great world poetry was and the perfect place for my escape where I could spend my “me time” wholeheartedly. I could say that even right now, my journey with words has not yet reached its peak and yet, my spirit felt a heavenly bliss.

After some experiments with metaphors, I stumbled upon a new concept that covers an analogical representation of expression. It is the extended form of metaphor–Allegory! This happened when I first discovered the treasures left behind by C.S. Lewis who penned “Narnia” and John Bunyan of the “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Until then, the wind has never been the same.

Sometime later, I met a personified glimpse of love, and the feeling was so great that I can’t contain it. Good thing though that words are good containers of feeling and I found myself in that room where I was able to spread such feelings. In that place, moments are captured in stillness, time is forever frozen, love is always young and at the same time, sorrows are shrouded, and hearts are often wounded. Poetry provides wings when one learn the secrets of the metaphor. There’s a vast universe out there where worlds collide at the tip of the writer’s pen.

Though no one would be able to fully comprehend the pieces that I carefully weaved, I know someone will, someday. Someone who will discover the treasure map I hid behind the cryptic words of allegorical expression–of what I really meant beyond the narration. Someone who will see the different facets of a striving poet, a “noobgrammer” and an enthusiast who dreamed of nothing but for fancy to embody itself, shedding truth beyond the flavors of mystic coating.
– Cyrustale 「サイルステール」 2016