I went straight into the mouth of doom

If I valued my happiness and not others, I wouldn't have gone straight into the mouth of doom.

Waking up always trying to feign that I am okay...

Walking without confidence, shoulders down and eyes sighing. If eyes ever sigh...

Smiling with a lot of reservations...

Putting an act each night when needed...

Why would you choose this kind of life? I ask myself. And neither I nor the audience air could answer.

I wake up every day with half-baked happiness. And I never wanted a half-cooked thing.

I dress to at least not make it obvious but even my passion for fashion was gone.

No more flashy styles, not caring whether I dress well or not.

The life in me is gone and what makes me go on is the fact that I was the one who started this.

And I can't just withdraw even if I wanted it so badly. I can't go back to my decision.

I've already plunged myself into the mouth of doom and going back will only mean hell.

Moving forward is the best thing to do. One day or another, I might just find a way to exit. But when I go out, I will have to bring with me the lives that I have affected.

There is no reason to sulk over spilled milk.

I can just go on lying. Perhaps I should stop lying. Perhaps I will stand up for what I want no matter how hard it is.

But then I messed up in the beginning, to begin with. And now I am a coward if I just run away from the things I have started.

Like always, after remembering all the regrets, I look to the positive side and smile through my sadness.

There is poetry after all. Although I am a poor poet, for now, the time will come when I will gather all the words I need.

And mine will all be the riches of my ambiguous world in poetry.

It is just ironic how one can craft a masterpiece in the dark. Or am I wrong? Perhaps I am but I see people being able to develop best in darkness.

But that prospect alone would not get me out of my reservations of going straight into the mouth of unhappiness and lies.

I look beyond and if I am ever permitted, I would transcend what the thinkers think, I would transcend my closed doors.

At the very least, I am a believer in fate and reason. There might just be something waiting for me at the end of the road or along with it.

Now with confidence every once in a while, I should walk with my eyes clear and confident, shoulders square and proud, and aura that of a refreshed one.

If I don't do something with my fate, who will?

We can always win amid our defeat. We can beat our foolishness and try to mold the remaining clays of our fate.