A poem by me. =)

A poem I did during PMR trials last paper. (PJK!!!!! xD)

Midnight,

A still wind blows,

In the rivers,

The water flows,

Someone's studying,

That I know,

6a.m.,

The cockerel crows.

That someone is tired,

O so I see,

He's been working hard,

Like a honey bee,

"My Sejarah paper is today",

Say's the fatigue he,

The paper comes,

And he rub's his hands in glee.

He took up his pen,

And wrote out his name,

He tried to answer the questions,

But to me, he's game,

He failed the Sejarah test,

And got only himself to blame,

After this incident,

Things were never the same.

He got O so sad,

Holding the paper in his hands,

Thirty-six marks was all he got,

It wasn't very grand,

His favourite computer games,

His parents had it banned,

But, one day,

Someone told him of the footprints in the sand.

He got to know Jesus,

Our Counselor and Friend,

The person that will never leave him,

Until the very end,

He studied very hard,

To face the year end,

And what do you guess?

Up to the first place,

There he ran.

=)

War? Meaningless

"Men! Fall in!" Came the cry from the commander. It was in the dead of night and plans were being made for the attack at dawn. Both forces have been exchanging bullets and counting casualties and none is at the upper-hand, both were at loss.

Derrick and the rest of his platoon got up, grabbed their rifles and lined up with the rest of the troops.
"At ease!", said the commander.

The men had all their hands down, with their firearms at their side.

"It could have been thousands of days, weeks, months, or heck we know, even years that we've been exchanging fire with the enemy forces. We've laid out a plan, boys, to end this once and for all."

Shouts of joy came from the men. The end of the war was what they all have been waiting for. Every single day, they lose lives, they lose themselves. How many have gone insane, no one knows. Bomb shells drop silently. Only the whistling before its impact could be heard. Thousands dead on both sides. The men were tired of this. All they wanted so badly now was to return home to their loved ones.

As the commander went around making his so-dramatic speech bout how the war is going to end and about their victory, Derrick thought to himself, asking why such things should happen. War is not going to make any side gain. It is always a lose-lose situation no matter the conclusion of the war. It is just so stupid.

You then may ask why he's in the army. At times of desperate need, the country recruits anyone who is able-bodied to fight and well, die for his country.

As the commander concluded his speech, the men cheered and gave loud cries of joy and even singing their anthem. The battle plans were laid out before their bare eyes and everyone looked at it as the commander gave his explanation. He separated the men into their teams and gave them a briefing about their task and their positioning as well as their role in the battle. Derrick's platoon was assigned to the far left. There was only about 20 to 25 men in his platoon, and they were very much dead, as they were alive. They were to move out at first light, where it is most likely not to be seen. Scouts were sent out by each platoon to their designated area and to make preparations. Derrick and Marlz - so he called himself- were picked from their platoon. Marlz was a big burly man, well-built and squared and could be said to look like a perfect soldier. He had thick hands and strong muscular arms. No doubt would anyone feel safe being with him if it was not for a war.

At 2315 hours, the scouts moved out with almost nothing in possession. This was to lighten their burden and make their travels faster. All they carried was their M-16s, a few extra rounds, a little provisions and that was about it. 

Travel was quick and little words were exchanged for in case enemy units were nearby. The silence provided a sense of ghostly comfort somehow. It just felt right in the darkness and through the dark recessions of the jungle. It all fell into place. Derrick could hear the winds silently blowing through the winds, the leaves shaking and branches bending at awkward angles sometimes and creaking as they went. It was definitely awkwardly comfortable alright.

 They arrived at their designated area. "It is here, aye?" asked Marlz in his rough voice.

"As sure as the commander could heck well be", replied Derrick.

Marlz gave a soft roar of laughter to avoid making noise. "Roger that, boy. Now, let's do whatever we're supposed to be doin' here".

As they set about the area, making sure the area was clear of traps and devices, suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes nearby. It was not any kind of rustling that was made by winds. This was a kind of man-made rustling. Both Derrick and Marlz looked around, aware of it. They picked up their arms and looked around. Suddenly, something wet and sticky splattered onto Derrick's face as he heard Marlz gave a low groan and a soft cry of pain. Derrick turned around and he saw a bayonet stuck through Marlz chest. Derrick, aware of this grave situation sidestepped around Marlz and cried as he sprayed the area behind Marlz. He heard a cry and a soft thump.

 "Get... the hell out.. outta here.. We've been found... Go! Get the f.." Was all Marlz could say as his last breath gave way.

Derrick, in his shock took a few seconds to understood and hastily ran through the jungle with his M-16 in arms, ready to fire. As he ran through the jungle, he realised this: There were gunshots ringing throughout the jungle, men were screaming out, grenades were going off. He concluded that they definitely have been ambushed and that the opposing force has predicted as much. As he ran the tress around him exploded in gunfire. It came to his understanding that he was being shot at. Instinctively, he turned around and shot at the direction. A thump was heard and he supposed he shot the target. He continued running. As he went running on, he tripped over a root of a tree and had his ankle twisted. Moreover, his foot was stuck. He began trying to free his foot. He heard several footsteps coming from where he came. This doubled his adrenaline and he began to cut the root with his combat knife, to no avail. He took out his rifle, and directed it ahead of him, determined to save his own life this night.

One man appeared, and Derrick fired and was true to his aim. The man went down. This alerted the other men with him and they started to approach Derrick in large numbers. Derrick, in desperation fired at every single one of them, not knowing how many he had taken down. It didn't matter to him anyway. As his consciousness fade and his very vision turned into darkness - nothing but darkness - he couldn't help but think about how stupid it is to wage war on another.

Hey, Sister

Hey, sister, don't leave me waiting here like that.
You know you've got to choose one of us one day.
I've done so much, don't you feel a single thing?
You walk the other way, you know you're gonna pay.

Something is wrong here but I just do not know.
I can't put my finger on it just yet.
You have been hurting and I could comfort you,
But I seem to be just part of your duet.

Why am I feeling this?
I could've been content.
But now that you are his,
I'll just be your man.

Unrequited love,
Paves the way to pain.
It's obviously a curse,
Reminds me of my shame.

Hey, sister, turn away for just a short while,
I know what I promised and I know what I have said.
My rebellion stops me from the painfulness of leaving once again.

Why am I feeling this?
I could've been content.
But now that you are his,
I'll just be your man.

Unrequited love,
Paves the way to pain.
It's obviously a curse,
Reminds me of my shame.

Maybe my chances are something like quite nil.
And I'm so sorry for everything that's done.
I ain't coming back to suffer for your sins,
Why don't we part ways and just call it a day.

Why am I feeling this?
I could've been content.
But now that you are his,
I'll just be your man.

Unrequited love,
Paves the way to pain.
It's obviously a curse,
Reminds me of my shame.
Reminds me of my shame.

Guys, Need Help!!

Ok, I need some ideas for a piece I'm working on. Its called Sephirot (you can wiki that, not to be confused with Final Fantasy) and I was wondering about a few things:

1. Should I set it in the real world or in a fantasy world?
2. Obviously I'd need ideas for names of people (I suck at creating names). I'd appreciate it if anyone would drop a few interesting ones.

Fallen Man

Its 1 o' clock in the middle of the dark
And I've just plain ran right out of luck.
Oh! Yes, it's true! Yes, it's true!
Its all been flushed right down the loo.
All my years I've been waiting for the past
Trying to win and not end up as last
I was talking love not looking at the lust
But now I'm tending wounds and scraping out the pus.
Oh! Yes, it's true! Yes, it's true!
Its all disappeared into the blue.
I, drained of power, am dismayed and put to shame,
With a bit in my mouth, I return from whence I came.

Anything's Fine

Anything's Fine

or 

Fur Denielle

Dearest Denielle, when I wrote this rhyme,
Everything about you came flooding to my mind.
Never left me, makes me think about you,
In the middle of the night, and when I'm sleeping too.
Every memory of words, everything we talked about,
Lays dormant, waits for a chance to come out.
Leaves me smiling, you crazy, maddening girl,
Everytime I think of you, I think about a pearl.

Lets be good friends of plain platonic gain,
Over years of sadness and many years of pain.
Virulent times our acquaintance cannot foil,
Even water will never float on oil.

Welcome to my world and my circle of friends,
In the seasons of life, there are only happy ends.
Till we meet again, at a later time,
Hail me when happy, or through lemon and lime.
Instead of just sulking, come readily to me,
Never'll turn you away but will listen for a fee.

Friends forever, is what we could be,
Riverside escapades, adventures so free.
Inexplicable bonds of companionship,
Everlasting and eternal, priceless friendship.
Never dying, never failing, we only speak our minds,
Doing what we do best, yet sharing all our finds.
Snaking through our lives, all meaning may be lost,
Health and wealth, fame and fortune, away may all be tossed.
In our best and our worst, through bad times and fine,
Promise me that ours will always ever be truly yours and mine.

I Am A Rock

A winter's day 
In a deep and dark December; 
I am alone, 
Gazing from my window to the streets below 
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. 
I am a rock, 
I am an island. 

I've built walls, 
A fortress deep and mighty, 
That none may penetrate. 
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. 
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain. 
I am a rock, 
I am an island. 

Don't talk of love, 
But I've heard the words before; 
It's sleeping in my memory. 
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. 
If I never loved I never would have cried. 
I am a rock, 
I am an island. 

I have my books 
And my poetry to protect me; 
I am shielded in my armor, 
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. 
I touch no one and no one touches me. 
I am a rock, 
I am an island. 

And a rock feels no pain; 
And an island never cries.

Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel

Untitled 1

Here I am, sitting bored, with my back to the girls,

Who make my life so interesting, so freaking nice,

'Cos talking to them is like the pigs getting the pearls,

I may be a man, but, hell no, they aren't my vice.

They may like the attention, but they just don't give enough,

They can go their own way if they wanna act tough.

Hell, no, I won't bow, its my way or the highway,

I won't be the victim, though they think I'm the prey.

World peace is a myth when my mind is this crazy,

I'd rather sit here and act like I'm lazy.

I really don't care but I ain't a potted plant,

All this nonsense sounds like a Gregorian chant.

I guess the rage is all gone, 'cause I feel wasted,

The bitterness of life is all that I've tasted,

And I guess that this is the final threshold,

I've ate the bread and found the bread mold.

How can you just sit there,

And push me to a corner.

Sitting there on that wooden chair,

Making me sound like a mourner.

I come, trying to ask a boon,

But you make it sound

Like asking for the moon.

Tying me up with many a bound.

Come on, get your arse off of the sidewalk,

Take a walk with me to your living, burning hell,

I hate your face, don't look me in the eyes,

Talk to the darkness, I can't see a thing.

Talk the talk, but you never walk the talk,

Don't you hear the death knell, that little golden bell,

Write your will, say your last bye-byes,

Don't talk to me, I ain't a lovely fling.

This ain't disobedience, just a little chat,

Why are you so serious, smile a little bit,

Blood on the walls, its just a flesh wound,

I don't feel a thing, I've got the analgesics,

Surely you can't see me unless you're a bat,

Not a guy, not a broad, just a little chit.

I've got my mind, I wouldn't just swoon,

I'm Wolfram; I ain't Giesekes.

There He Stood

The sky was dark and grey,

Threatening to break into rain

Any moment, Man to pay

With interest, God's wrath and pain

Turn dry to teary day.

There he stood,

A pedibus usque ad caput,

His heart, bitter wormwood,

Aut vincere mori aut.

In open dilemma, saying,

Auribus teneo lupum,

Not anyone would care.

Bide he codex luris Canonici,

Claves aurea Sancti Petri

Could not be found on earth,

As it is in heaven.

But turn away from darkness,

And contra spem spero,

Look for the hope which never was,

And never will be,

Never.

Missit me Dominus,

Minatur innocentibus,

Qui parcit nocentibus.

Motu proprio,

Mos maiorum,

Mulgere hircum.

Subject: Blackberry

BLACKBERRY 12TH ANNIVERSARY AWARDS CENTRE,
#218 PROPSHAFT ROAD SAMCOR PARK X1 PRETORIA GAUTENG SOUTH AFRICA

Dear Award winner,

Award Reference code: BBRIM568A2011
File number: BB255/647/390

This is to inform you that you have won yourself an Award of Eight hundred thousand British Pounds (?800,000 GBP) in the Blackberry Anniversary Awards as organized by the Anniversary Centre of Blackberry Inc, held in SOUTH AFRICA,

BlackBerry is a line of mobile e-mail and Smartphone devices developed and designed by company Research In Motion (RIM).

The Anniversary Centre of Blackberry Inc selected your email id as one of the 120 chosen fortunate winners to receive this award. Also as part of their profit philanthropic wing (BLACKBERRY.ORG) promotion. Awards MUST be claimed by the email owner ONLY, not later than 30 days from the day of notification.

Please you are advised to file for your claim immediately through our agent Mr. Cosmos Thabo
Immediately by providing him with the bellow stated information:

1. Full name……………….
2. Country…………….
3. Age…………………
4. Occupation………………..
5. Nationality ………………
6. Telephone/Fax Numbers……………..
7. Email addressesDirector of Peoples Operations:
Name: Mr. Cosmos Thabo
Tel: +27722864469
Fax: +27865389168
E-Mail: cosmos.thabo@w.cn    or      cosmosthabo@w.cn

Please do not reply if you are NOT the owner of this email address. Congratulations once again!!

Sincerely Yours,
Dr. Williams Jordan (Zonal Coordinator)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After 12 years of establishment, Blackberry Inc is worth over US $43 Billion with over 1.5 Million workers worldwide making it the best of mobile e-mail and Smartphone devices developed and designed by Canadian company Research in Motion (RIM).

The Easter Weekend

This Easter weekend, I would like to write on the TRUTH of Easter and not about bunnies and eggs. Enjoy:


Two thousand years ago on earth was placed,
The Son of God, innocent, took our place,
Of whom the Romans chose to slay.

See! See his face,
Written all over the expression of distaste,
Died in a sinner's place,
That life may be given to the human race.

He was flogged for my evil deeds,
His brow pierced for my evil thoughts,
His legs nailed for my misleads,
His side pierced for my darkened heart,
And his hands, his hands nailed for my wrong doings.

As he hung on the cross of wood,
He did not plead like he should,
He asked for water, vinegar was given,
And He made human and God even.

The earth was shrouded as he hung there,
And cried out His last words,
He said "It is finished", that our injustice made fair,
For our ransom He paid with blood,
For our life He gave His life.

The curtain torn into two,
That we may enter God's presence,
For in Him, He let us to.

Three days He rose from the dead,
The people have no words to be said.

He returned not of flesh but of spirit,
For 'twas the power of God's love.



Hosanna in the highest!

When Storm Comes...

When Storm Comes...

When Storm Comes...
We try to avoid,
We try to evade,

When Troubles Comes...
We try to solve,
We try to do what ever we can!
Yet, we fail..

When you feel that no one is there for you,
God is right there beside you,

Even as we try to solve..
NO! The troubles became more and more!
It could never end by our strength..
But The Lord our God is always helping us when we don't even know,
He is always there for you!
We failed so much,but God never fails,

For The Glory of God,
Pinkish Wai Jun.

I Question The Skies

I look up and question the skies,
Of everything, the how's and why's,
I look down and say to the ground,
Why am I kept bound?

I close my eyes and ask my heart,
Why have we depart?
I open my eyes to see the stars,
Etched, like my scars.

If there was anything I could do,
I'd do anything back for you,
If there was any last flicker of hope,
I will hang onto the rope.

Am I thus, cursed for despair?
Is there no way to repair?
This eternal searing pain,
That looks upon me with disdain.

I look up and question the skies,
But all I see are those two eyes,
The ones I have much adored,
Now which I see no more.

Ads And Its Effect On Society

Advertising, its running rampant around this age. Advertisements are so strongly influential that it can raise a particular business over 50%. What then, makes ads so influential that it has such an effect in society? Advertisements tell about how great and grand a product is, shoving the fact that it can make a person strong, have recognition, look beautiful or striking to get attention, become rich and powerful, so on and so forth. This, of course, are all lies. Drinking a bottle of Coke doesn't make a person look like Brad Pitt nor does Kaspersky make you play badminton as well as Lee Chong Wei, not forgetting the fact that Lee Chong Wei doesn't go around smashing viruses to his opponent's court. Yet, amongst all else, even though most people do keep that in mind, why are advertisements so convincing? That, will be continued below.

Advertisements are something, that could be said as to be able to brainwash people, playing with a person's mind and then.... *Poof!*. I-must-buy-the-product virus installed into person's head. Advertisements has such a wide reach that it covers the whole surface of this blue-green planet of ours. Pay attention to it and therefore, thou shalt be like the above stated, having a mind, blue with Advertisement Viruses inhabiting your mind, digging, deeper and deeper into every single neuron in your brain until you become an advertisement yourself. Just kidding! That part wasn't true, about the virus and all that, but the way it works, is kind of more or less the way I stated it. You see, the way ads work, it makes you buy the product, lets say like a Quiksilver shirt. You wear the shirt, which has- obviously in VERY LARGE WORDS - Quicksilver printed in diagonal across the shirt from corner to corner in striking colours on a plain-white background. Guess what happens next? Everyone you walk past, might or might not look at your shirt and the words "Quiksilver" gets imprinted in their puny little minds and then the go about thinking "Quiksilver, Quiksilver, Quiksilver" and they get the same T-shirt as you. Repeat the cycle. Amazing isn't it? You become a walking advertisement and you are not getting paid for it, yet you are paying FOR it.

Scary isn't it, these facts and yet we ask and comment about advertisements that are loitering around us in square, virtual screens called televisions or computers. Ads play a role in a society, which is to make and earn money any more. Despite how much Disney tells society that they are making cartoons for the kids, the fact remains that they are only wanting to make, money, money, money and fame, fame, fame. Therefore, I urge you friends, to think twice before getting something which you want and not needed or required before you become a mindless, walking advertising zombie in the midst of society, in your country! Advertisements are around you, learn to abhor them but have your own view and perspective and everything and get only what you need, asking opinions from the experts and not from the influence of advertisements that are floating about the air. 

If only advertisements came with a warning label which says "Beware, might cause influence", society would probably be better than what it is. Think twice, be nice.

Charismata - Chapter 2

 Chapter 2

Shadows of The Past

I was in an underground chamber. I knew it somehow. It just appeared in my mind like a fact. Some people claim it happens like that in dreams. I couldn't remember if I had had dreams before. I couldn't remember anything.

I sat up and observed my surroundings. I had been lying on a stone slab. I could hear the sea waves crashing against the rocks and could taste the salt on my tongue. I didn't know how I knew these things as I couldn't remember anything. How could I even tell what salt tasted like if I didn't know? I filed this question into the back of my mind for later pondering.

I realized that my muscles were underdeveloped. Don't ask me how I knew, I just knew. Maybe it was because I was comparing my current body to the one in this dream. Although I sort of felt that it wasn't actually a dream, but something else. A vision from God, perhaps?

I gingerly put my feet on the ground and nearly stumbled. Two hands gripped me firmly but carefully and softly. I turned around, nearly slipping again and I saw a man. He looked different from, well, whatever I thought people looked like. I didn't even know what I looked like.

He was a petite old man about sixty or seventy years old. He wore a beaked mask that had been pulled back on the top of his head, wore a white tunic over what looked like a chain-mail and had a knife belt that was full hanging on his belt. He and I were the only ones in the room.

He looked my in the eye and smiled, wrinkles forming around his ancient eyes. He spoke with a speed that would amaze any orator. It seemed like words followed one another like a wagon going down a steep hill. And he had no punctuation whatsoever.

“Welcome-to-earth-twenty-three-my-son.”

Earth twenty-three? Are there twenty-two other earths? I wondered.

Then I woke up.

This Is My Creed

I believe in the Bible, that both of the old and New Testaments are inspired by God and without error in the original writings. I believe in one God eternally existing in three equal Persons - the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I believe that God the Father is the Creator and the Supreme Ruler of the heaven and earth.

I believe that God the Son became flesh in the person of Jesus Christ, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. Jesus is true God and true man at the same time. I believe that Jesus Christ died for the sins of the whole human race on the cross as substituted sacrifice and that He physically and bodily rose from the grave after three days according to the Scriptures. I believe in the personal, bodily and visible return of Jesus Christ. This is our blessed hope. When Christ comes again, the church will be raptured. Then there shall be seven years of Great Tribulation, after which Christ shall set foot on earth to establish the Millennial Kingdom.

I believe that the Holy Spirit is a person and that He is God possessing all the divine attributes. He indwells, baptizes and seals all believers at the moment of their conversion and fills them in response to confession of sin and willingness to yield. I believe that whoever by faith receives Jesus Christ as his or her Savior becomes a child of God. This salvation is by grace through faith and not the result of any human effort or merit. I believe that all true believers are kept eternally secure by the power of God through the new birth, the indwelling and sealing of the Holy Spirit, and the intercession of Christ. This is my creed.

Why I Write

Why I Write


People passing by in life,
Going their weary way,
May ask us over a drink,
Why I write everyday.


I thought a little while,
Said, with a sad smile:
Not for money or for pay,
Dost I write everyday.


Why I write, nay, nay,
My old, old friend,
I cannot really say.


I write, I write,
So that others may know,
The wrong from the right,
And the darkness from light.
So that they too just might
Be like a high-soaring kite,
Or a light-tower's light,
To guide the sore feet,
From the edge of a dyke
And that, old friend,
Is why I write.


He looked me in the eye,
And told me, with a sigh,
“I'll never understand,
How you and the others can,
But I don't believe
That I ever can write.”


Said I with a groan,
“Not to write is to moan.”


I write, I write,
So that I too can see,
The edge of the lee,
For it is the key,
To the sound of my soul.
And that, old bro,
Is why I write.

Charismata- Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Dark Encounters
Luca Rubesco sat in the warm shade of an open-air verandah. He looked out at the busy bustle of the Merchants' Quarter, where buyers and sellers rubbed shoulders with thieves, rogues, slaves, donkeys, nobles and soldiers. Rubesco laughed softly to himself as he thought: All men are alike down here. He was of average height and had a small nose set in between intense dark eyes and full lips and a sharp chin. His dark hair was pulled back and was tied in a ponytail by a leather strap. He was of average built, sporting a belly that would have hung out with lack of exercise and toned arms and legs.
Another man sitting across the table started and looked up at Rubesco. He had been deep in thought, subconsciously massaging the pommel of a longsword at his hip. He frowned at that habit and quickly drew his hand away. He was quite the opposite from Rubesco. He had lighter eyes that gleamed mischievously and he was thin with tanned skin. His hair was grown in a unruly mess which reached in all directions. His thin, well-formed fingers seemed to fidget uncontrollably.
Both of them were attired in desert-brown leather armor with longswords belted at their sides. Long, black, flowing robes marked them as Blackguards, the Armed Guards of House Black, the ruling House of Ortega. While Rubesco had another longsword strapped to his back, Jray had a long dagger looped on his belt.
Rubesco turned. “Time to move, Jray,” he said softly, with a sigh. Jray sighed back, hoping that they would still be alive at the end of the day.
Today, they had been assigned to patrol and investigate a part of the city, known among Blackguards as the Rogue's Corner. More Guards had died there than any other part of the city; only the Desert Rats could claim more deaths than any other detail, but they operated outside the city.
Jray led the way, pressing through the crowd. He curled his nose at the stench of sweat and animals as he evaded a wagon deftly. He didn't look back to see if Rubesco was with him; they always moved in perfect harmony. He traveled against the flow going to the Common Marketplace and instead pressed on together with a patrol of Ortegian Elite. Rubesco was right behind him.
They finally stopped outside a rundown building, worn smooth by years of hostile sand storms that even the city walls could not keep out. A drunk lay in the garter while a street urchin was sifting through his pockets. A beggar with a single arm called out to them for alms. He was ignored.
The doors slid in smoothly when Jray pushed on it. They had expected this. A tip-off had informed them that this was a thieves' nest; the den of the largest operating syndicate in Ortega. Rubesco nearly smiled. It was such an enormous operation that if they screwed up the part they had to play, they would be sent to the Marching Corps, the only military group that had to parade on festivals and feast-days. No Blackguard could ever stand that.
They entered the place. It used to be a small corner shop but had been stripped bare of everything. The walls lay empty as did the whole room. Only dust covered the floor, punctuated with bootprints going both ways. They advanced cautiously, checking for traps, and made their way across the room to the door on the other side.


Far below the duo, a farrago of marketers bartered and traded a huge catalogue of goods that would have befuddled the Ortegian Economist Guild. Men and women shouted at one another to be heard above the tremendous noise which echoed throughout the large cavern. Hanging oil lamps were suspended high above everyone, hooked onto iron rings on the ceiling, shedding a flickering orange glow. A broad stairway had been cut into the northern face, turning into the darkness, stretching till where Jray was, surveying the first step from the doorway suspiciously.
Meanwhile, the unsuspecting people below continued their trade. Here and there an urchin would be running, a rogue or hired bandit stood guard, or an assassin purchasing venom of exotic origin or a knife tipped with indestructible metal. This was the General Black Market of Ortega. Nearly all the merchants from the outside brought something extremely valuable and even rarer to sell here for a profit, a small fortune that would have made the journey to Ortega worthwhile without any other goods; a necrotome or a huge gemstone with strange powers would never go unsought.
Kelly Orson had been looking for a particular blade that had fell into her hands a few years ago but was stolen after a few days. She didn't get the chance to try it out. She was hoping against the odds that it would be here. After all, seldom did artifacts escape the Black Market. And if anyone had been sported carrying a blade of that description around, she would have been informed by the numerous, festering rogues that would have dropped her a note. But then again, it may have been bought already or even destroyed.
She walked among the stalls, searching.


Outside, the hot air did nothing to alleviate the heat, but it wasn't the temperature that was making the beggar with a single arm sweat. He had been sure that the cloaks the two men were wearing belonged to the Blackguards. He peered round slowly. Three paces to the nearest alarm. It was just a rope that was attached to a small bell down at the Black Market. He stretched his legs slowly, trying to get rid of the stiffness that had accumulated all morning, and trying not to draw too much attention.
The street urchin was watching the beggar with a look that told him that they were both on the same team. Encouraged by the support and ensured that the surrounding area was filled with rogues, the beggar jumped up, stumbled a little, and dashed to the alarm. He nearly immediately collided with a stout frame of solid muscles and fell back, causing him to curse loudly. He nearly emptied his bowels when he realized that the muscles was wrapped in a robe of pure black. It was a Blackguard.


Jray and Luca stared down into the darkness. Luca was holding a candle over them both. It seemed to them that the darkness was taunting them, devouring the candle light as soon as it came out. Jray took the first step and Luca followed a pace behind. They were on the first of seven flights of stone steps, worn smooth by the passage of many merchants, thieves and bandits.


Kelly had just bought another throwing knife to add to her collection. It fitting the general shape and balance as her other knives but it was considerably larger, nearly twice as large as her heaviest one. She was told that this had been imported straight from the East and had curious abilities. According to the seller, an old lecherous man who kept staring at her various assets, it could pass through all types of magical barriers, even a lich's. It had a spectacular curve at the stabbing end and she would bet that it could be used in melee combat as well. It was, all in all, a blade to kill.
As for the sword, she hadn't found it yet.


The beggar got up with amazing alacrity and, with as much agility, had drawn a stiletto from somewhere within his rags. He lunged and planted the dagger into the Blackguard. It sank in with a protesting screech halfway up the blade. The Blackguard backhanded him to the head...before a single quarrel struck the Blackguard in the forehead, killing him instantly.
The street urchin was now standing over the drunk, who had not recovered, and was holding a hand crossbow, aimed at where the man was standing before. The street urchin moved towards the alarm but tripped over the arm of the drunk, which was not there before. The drunk got up, smiling grimly. The boy got up, cursing at the drunk, before he realized that the drunk had a shortsword and that it was swinging down at him.


The pair were on the second flight of stairs.


Kelly was hungry. She still had the knife cradled in her arms like a baby. She liked to bond with her new knives, so she told her few friends.
She strolled over to the fruit stall and deftly nicked an apple when the merchant was talking to another buyer, whom she noted was also nicking oranges under the table. She smiled. All man are same down here. She knew that it was very probable that the merchant had overcharged for the fruits. In a way, it was all the same. Here, I cheat you and you steal from me. Up there, I am honest and you are honest. It's the same.


Blood splattered across the street and seeped into the dust as the urchin fell to the stroke of the sword. It carved a great gash across the boy's breast, spilling blood. The boy dropped to the ground, limp, allowing the beggar clear view of the drunk. It was obviously not a drunk. Only a Blackguard would have had a sword like that. They looked at one another, as if stunned. The beggar was still on the ground, half getting up, and the Blackguard was standing with the sword held by his side. The blood was still dripping from it.
All of a sudden, it seemed as if the whole place had erupted into a maddened craze. Previously unseen men rushed out from alleyways and back-roads, holding sticks, swords and clubs of various makes. They were clearly intent on bloodshed.
The Blackguard drew, with a swift movement, a flare, and, before anyone could stop him, had launched it, high into the air. A crushing boom was heard and the sparks poured forth even after the fight had begun.
Regimens of Blackguards, waiting for this signal, moved into the streets, and clashed with the frenzied mob. They were outnumbered six to one.


They heard the boom even as they were halfway down the third flight of stairs. Jray looked up into Luca's eyes. He saw the worry there that mirrored his own: The fight had broken out above them. They started running, taking five steps at a time.



Kelly had been leaning against one of the many air vent that made the place possible when she heard the flare go off, along with the hundreds of others there. For a full second, the entire place went silent, except for the oblivious wailing of a child. Then everything degenerated into chaos.
Kelly kept calm and pushed her way through the hysterical crowd towards one of the many trapdoors that led all over the city. The particular one she was eyeing would place her directly behind the Black Palace's outer back wall. She expected it to be guarded heavily, and therefore the last place anyone in her position would be expected to go.
She sighed. These minor interruptions were merely irritating. At this rate, she would never find that sword.


Sean Bastion had seen combat before, but not many more furious than this in all his 20-odd years of mercenary service to the Ortegian law enforcers: He had already received several gashes on his arms and body; he had slain seven so far.
The air reverberated with clashes of cold steel and cries of injured or dying men. The ground was covered in bodies and already the desert flies were settling, impatient for the battle to be over. Sean shook his head. He was by profession an artist, but there wasn't much money to be had there, and he had too many brothers and sisters in the Beggars' District than he wanted. All of them were honest, hard-working people, thank the heavens, and being a sellsword gave a high, if unstable, income.
Sean gripped his flail tightly as he leapt over a body behind a thug, whipping the flail sideways into the man's head. It connected with a spray of gore and a sickening crunch. Sean felt a tug at his gut as he always did whenever he had to take a life. It did not stop him from doing it for money, or again and again, but it did remind him of who and what he was, and he was not a killer.
Sean caught a glancing blow from behind as a staff smacked him squarely between the shoulders. He turned sideways as the staff came down again, missing him by a hairbreadth. He seized the opportunity and swiped inwards with his flail, raking a thick line of flesh out of his aggressor's chest. He heard a pained grunt and a swipe as he received a blow in his side, knocking the breathe out of him with a whoosh. He doubled over and the rod descended again on his back. Sean recovered in time to whip around once again with his flail. It deflected the staff far to his right and Sean moved in, cracking his jaw with a blow from the pommel of his flail before jumping back two paces.
Welts had already formed along his back and he could feel the sting as sweat flowed down the bruised lines. The other man was not as lucky. His lower jaw was hanging ajar and was twisted grotesquely to the left with blood dripping steadily down. Several of his teeth were scattered around and his chest was a study of gore. A reddish white streak across his torso clearly showed where his third rib was. Despite all his wounds, the man did not seemed fazed in the least. Indeed, Sean could have sworn that the man attempted a grin as he charged Sean once again.


Both Blackguards crashed onto the iron-bound door at the same time. It splintered and cracked under the strained but the lock refused to yield. Jray swore lustily before they both slammed it again. It bulged in but held firm. Jray yelled and threw himself at it again, and this time it broke around the lock. He was thrown into the midst of the yelling, chaotic mass that was the General Black Market of Ortega.
Luca, leaping over Jray, stopped short at the sight of people simply trampling one another to get to the trapdoors. No one seemed to be interested to attacked them. Not even the thugs. Especially not the thugs. They seemed to be the nearest to the trapdoors, using their clubs and swords to part the crowd before them. But the Blackguards were not interested in mere thugs. They were on a manhunt for the most dangerous and cunning criminal in these parts. Kelly Orson.


Kelly Orson was just three paces away from the trapdoor when it burst open, revealing at least a battalion of soldiers pouring out. The entire crowd screamed while a few thugs and bandits attacked the soldiers. Kelly cursed under her breath and whirled around quickly. Her eyes met those of Luca Rubesco and her heart stopped beating for a second. Then she tore down the hall, looking for another exit as she ran.


Sean leaped forward, inside the reach of the staff. The staff came down too slow and Sean leapt sideways, mauling the man's left knee into shards of bone before striking upwards. The flail crushed the man's forehead and droplets of his brains showered into the air.
Sean looked around. The fighting seemed to have died down even though the clanging and clashing of steel could be heard from the alleyways and back-roads. He saw a group guarding the backdoor of the Black Market and decided to join them. He knew that they needed all the help they can get.
As if just to prove his point, the door was torn down and a dozen Blood Assassins, distinct in their blood-red cloaks and hoods, burst out. Sean sighed and jogged toward the newly-started battle.


Luca swore again as he sprinted towards Kelly. He hurdled over several stalls and into the crowd. The crowd instinctively shirked away and he managed to find a clear path through the chaotic mass of humanity. Kelly was still running, tugging at a trapdoor stuck from years of disuse, then dashing away to find another, hoping that that would work. She was sweating, more from fear and panic than exertion, and she was getting frantic. She pulled hard at the next trapdoor and it came away in her hands, rotted from a steady drip of water from the ceiling. She gave a shriek of delight and plunged in.
Luca dashed forward, hardly five metres behind, entering the dark passageway. He saw two figures in the dark, silhouetted against the bright sunlight at the other end of the upward-sloping tunnel. One was clearly Kelly, running, escaping. The other was just an unconscious bulk, slumped by the side of the narrow passageway.
Kelly didn't notice the other figure until it stirred just as she passed. She tripped over the lifted leg and fell over, sprawled spread-eagle on the ground.
Luca felt a push of exaltation and sprinted faster, determined to capture Kelly no matter what the cost. Kelly jumped up, blood dripping from her nose, and limped towards the light. Pain shot up her left leg, but she knew better than to stop. She had heard enough stories of the interrogative procedures of the Blackguards to know that she did not want to get caught.
Luca laughed loudly when he realized that she was injured. He laughed because the hunt that had dragged on for years would end here, one on one. She had nearly reached the entrance when he leveled his crossbow at her.
“Kelly!” She stopped and turned around. “Come back here and I won't have to shoot you.” She smiled sadly and turned round slowly. But her mind was racing, wandering through a hundred possible endings for the day. In many, she noted carefully, her body lay burning on a heap of cadavers. In a few, she was in prison. But in one, she was still alive. And just like that, she knew what she had to do.
She feigned to the right and Luca fired the quarrel with a vicious twipp and it sank halfway into the earthy face of the tunnel. Kelly's hand moved at an astonishing speed and a flurry of knives flew out at Luca.
Time seemed to slow down. The knives wavered then stabilized in its path to the face and chest of Luca with enough force to kill him. Kelly twirled and ran towards the exit, not caring if her ploy had worked or not, but praying to the God she never believed in that it had.
The man jumped up with surprising alacrity and slammed Luca to the ground, taking instead the knives meant for Luca in his own chest. They sank in to the hilt and the man dropped heavily, having used the last of his fast-fading energy on saving Luca.
Rubesco jumped up only to watch Kelly pass through into the bright sunlight, and then he saw no more.
A knife stood out of his belly, and a spreading red patch was already on the ground. Both men lay there, side by side, their blood flowing into a deepening pool of unmingling scarlet, while Kelly ran through the dark alleyways, avoid Blackguard patrols.
©JLoo/Wolf Rubesco 2011

Come Out Of The World

Take the time to think:
What is it that makes you who you are now?
What changes you?
What makes you different?

We live in a world where society demands everything from everyone, thus pushing everyone deeper into the world. Let me say this, we should rise up as 1 people. The world, isn't the world that it used to be anymore. It's literally another realm together. We weren't created FROM the world, neither were we put here to be WITH the world. We have a mission, a target to change what is IN the world. Take everything OUT of the world. Let those who have ears, hear and those who have eyes see. See how much the world is changing them into something.... good? No. It's turning everyone bad, in a way. The world has become selfish, dignity is no more, honour has already been blasted out to space.
What has the world become of? It runs circles around us, laughs at us whenever we fall. The world is changing, not for good, but for worse. The contradictions of everything we see in everyday life. People doing good things, and saying "No, it's okay, you don't have to repay me" when in their heart, they want to be repayed so bad. Is this what we want? Hypocrites, I tell you! They are just doing it for the sake of showing out themselves about how "good" they are. These, amongst all others, are not honest and are the most, in-a-way, evil. Is this what we want to live in?
How then, are we able to escape the claws of the world? How then will we be able to free ourselves? To find freedom and peace in our lives. How then can we get OUT of the world? We are living IN the world, how can we step out of it? I tell you this: If you have only opened your eyes and see, take in everything around you, look above, look below, left and right even at night, the answer already lies there. It takes only a step of faith. It is never simple. But hear ye, hear ye to the cries that dwell within your heart. The knock that comes all night and day if only you listen to it! The voice that calls out to you every single hour, that causes your soul to feel guilty, to be convicted of every wrong you have done. No, I'm not condemning you, no I'm not reading your mind. I'm telling you the truth. Answer the feeling you hear that goes knocking on your heart. Take that step of faith and get out of the world. The world is not good for anyone.

Stars (As Inspired By Les Miserables)

There, out in the night sky,

Casting a dim light,

Filling the darkness,

Filling the dark,

Thou shalt be my witness,

Never to surrender,

To be steadfast and sure,

To be steadfast and sure.

Thou leadest me in the dark,

For thine is the way of the light,

For those who are righteous remain,

They will never be baned!

And if thy fall from heavens above,

Do fall in love...!!

Stars,

In thy great number,

I am inspired,

Unfinished counting,

Keeping order at night,

Keeping order at night,

Thou art the sentries at dusk,
Leading the way of the light,

And at each and every return,

Thou art always the same.

And if thy fall from heavens above,

I wish for pure love..!!

And so it will be,

As it is written,

On the highway to Paradise,

That those who succumb and those who fall,

Will fail the prize.

Stars,

Nothing goes unseen,

Below thy sight,

For thou art watching,

Throughout the night,

Silent without weakness,

Thou never shall yield,

Till thy time is up,

Till thy time is up.

This Is The World

This is the world,
That at every turn we see,
Self-exaltation unfurled,
They says its how it should be.


This is the world we know,

That everyone ought to boast,
No places for anyone to lay low,
But to step up or be toast.


This is the world now,
That if one should fall,
No one to him would bow,
To show that everyone should stand tall.

This is the world this hour,
That when one arises all will adhere,
But to those who fall short will cower,
No ear will be turned to hear.

This is the world this second,
That everyone should be great,
But to him who is broken,
Falls back into the darkness of fate.

This is the world everyday,
That everyone should gain power,
But those who fail to live up to the say,
Will wilt, without rain, a flower.

This is the world that we live in,
That is the survival of the fittest,
Yet he who is the best falls into sin,
What survival is there in this test?

This is the world that goes round,
Where everyone ought to be at the top,
But at every corner evil is found,
Where is the good, the evil to stop?

This is the world, this is the world,
Where do the hearts of men dwell?
The world, into the ocean, ought to be hurled,
For evil rings a loud tone, a bell.

This is the world.

"I Am Number Four" Book Review

Hey readers! This is the first review on Pink Ink. Yeah, it's true.


Today I'm gonna review the BOOK, sadly not the movie, "I Am Number Four".


Here's the synopsis:


The story rotates around a Lordic Garde, who named himself as John Smith. His real name is unknown. There are 9 Gardes who survived the annhilation of Lorien. The Gardes are the people of Lorien who will eventually gain something known as Legacies, which are like special powers. A charm was put upon all 9 of them, that they can only be killed according to order. The first three are dead, therefore it makes John, the next in line to be killed. By who? The Mogadorians. The Mogadorians are ruthless "aliens". They have consumed their whole planet, making them travel the universe in search of resources. They destroyed Lorien, so their next destination is Earth, which so happens to be where the 9 Gardes and their Cepans(which are the Gardes' guardians) are landed. The Gardes are seperated from each other because their charm will break if they are together.
Starting off with the death of Number Three, John moves with his Cepan, Henri, to Paradise, Ohio. There, he fell in love with a girl by the name of Sarah Hart. Sarah Hart's ex-boyfriend, Mark James, didn't like John and always picks on him, until one day during the school's Halloween's celebration. During the haunted hayride, Mark and his football people, which happen to be in charge of the hayride, picks on them in the middle of the woods. John got angry and he let his Legacies run free. John's Legacy at that time was Lumen, which made him resistant to fire and heat, as well as allowing his hands to glow. He, being an alien, was stronger and faster than any other human. He single-handedly took down all the footballers and threw them into the river. That was when Sarah became John's girlfriend.

Many more was revealed in the later of the book, when the Mogadorians came to Paradise, Ohio. Number Six came to help John to fight the battle there. Henri dies at the end of the book. Number Six, John and his friend, Sam, leave Paradise, leaving Mark and Sarah behind. The story ends there and will be continued in its sequel, The Power Of Six.

I have left many parts of the story from the synopsis, lest I should kill the fun of it.

My Ratings:


Storyline: 7/10

It has a good storyline that kept me guessing all along, though some were quite predictable.

Language: 6/10

The language usage was fine. Easy to understand to there were some words which I did not know. Vulgar, in a few parts but the overall was fine.

Action: 7/10

I give it a 7 because there wasn't really a lot of action, except in selected parts where there was fighting. The whole book, for me, was just about John and Sarah. The fighting was during the Hayride, at Athens, Ohio and at the later end of the book.

Creativity: 8/10

I find the author wrote the book in a very creative way, about how aliens and humans are so much alike and the way he depicted them and the description of the characters, are really different in aspects as well as seperating the Humans, Lordics and the Mogadorians from each other. I wouldn't have thought of any other way to put it so clearly.

Values: 8/10

This book holds a lot of values, though there were many kissing parts, between John and Sarah throughout the whole book, drinking and violence and vulgarity as well. The book displays a lot of friendship between John and Henri, John and Sarah and between John and Sam. It shows how important they put friendship ahead of themselves and how important friends are to a person especially if that person has been on the run, switching names and homes for over 10 years.

The total? 7+6+7+8+8 / 50

= 36/50

=7.2/10

= A good book

Its really a good book to read. Had me reading it for 5 hours straight till my eyes couldn't stay open anymore. Try it.

1 thumbs up.

All-England Badminton Tournament

I, hereby on the behalf of Pink Ink and probably the whole Malaysia, would like to congratulate Dato Lee Chong Wei on his excellent performance in the All-England Badminton Tournament held in London on the 6th to the 13th of March 2011. Well done in the finals! The gold medal surely was yours. All the best in all future tournaments.
The results throughout the whole tournament are as such:
Round 1: Chong Wei vs Leverdez Brice -> 21-9,21-11
Round 2: Chong Wei vs Bao Chunlai-> 21-16,21-16
Quarter Finals: Chong Wei vs Ponsana Boonsak-> 21-15,21-7
Semi Finals: Chong Wei vs Chen Long-> 21-17,21-13
Finals: Chong Wei vs Lin Dan-> 21-17,21-17





CONGRATULATIONS!