Inside My Head

Inside My Head by Chase

Inside my head is a battlefield; where corruption and tranquility
          found home.

With me, the clouds in the sky mourned as this little child lay helpless
          in the middle of this bloody plains.

Adjacent to the hill is a group of mercenaries wearing breastplates
          tainted with blood stains.

Near a burning haystack lies endless rows of white-painted rotting
          tombstones suffocated by chains.

To the right is a river which echoes the voice of the soon-to-be slain; a
          terrain where life drains. 

This poor little soul, an innocent and naive child crippled by hours of
          running, wailed.

Over the horizon, he saw the ocean slowly turning black where the
          ships have sailed.

Questioning himself, he just opened his mouth: "Novus Orbus." He
          exclaimed. 

Under the floating forest, on the other side is an army of warriors. Peace is
          what their white robes proclaimed.

Inked on their skin are thousands of wisdom in the form of ancient
          tattoos that are highly-acclaimed.

Trebuchets hurled decapitated heads of the weak. They want the land
          reclaimed.

Staying firmly where he stood, he prayed while the two great forces
          clashed.

One by one, moments of his feeble, lamentable and meager life
          flashed.

Rain of water turned to blood as thousands of skulls re bashed.

Reflected by the red river is the aftermath of a life-deprived war
          where everyone was ashed.

Yet this poor little soul was unscathed. Four words came out of him:
          "Haereo... Eo... Labor... Pleo..."

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Interpretation: The poem basically reflects my inability to decide for myself. The little child is me and the "two great forces" is an example of a dilemma where I get consumed. Someone told me: "If you don't know what you want, then you better know hat you do not want and base your decisions there." It's always a battle in my head. A battle that doesn't lead to anything.

"Novus" and "Orbus" are both Latin words. They mean "new" and "work" respectively. Notice that if you combine the first letters of both words, they form "NO"

"Haereo", "Eo", "Labor" and "Pleo" mean "Adhere", "Transition", "Collapse" and "Depletion". The latin wrds form the word "HELP." You get the picture. Of course, there are a lot of other meaning in this poem that I'd rather keep to myself. Thanks for reading my poem.

The Mystery Biker

Riding on a cool bike he stopped and gave me a weird look,

On his head he wore an impenetrable fortress made from a thick book.

Nodding, he told me: "You look like someone I could take care."

After starting his bike he said: "Hop on, whilst there is no fare."

Like a child yearning for a retort, I grabbed his arms,

Delighted to see someone driving for me has irresistible charms.

Just when I'm about to speak, the stench of worry reeked,

Over the valley of nothingness, words barely leaked.

Hours passed, we never knew because we were having so much fun,

Nothing seemed to matter until we realized there was no sun.

Smiling at me, after seeing me tremble he said: "Hang on tight."

Must be the fact that you make me feel things will be alright.

It's time for me to take the other road and it suddenly poured,

Troubled but we have to go our own ways, he gave me a cord.

He told me: "Never let go, coz losing you is something I can't afford."