COLD SHARP-EDGED HEART OF SAMSON

The strong man in disguise has a hollow in his eyes.

Sturdy is his foundation yet bliss in his smile never suffice.

He laughs as if he is the toughest,

He shouts as if he is the bravest,

Celebrates triumphs like it has always been his.

But never did they know that this Samson was already falling apart.

His laughs are becoming cries of his frustrations,

His shouts are whispers of his untold stories,

His victories are defeated by his empty memories.

The strong man in disguise has a blazing sword pierced in his heart.

He loves but hurts at the same time.

His passion was never understood of hows and whys.

Courageous as he is, blunt is his word against the others.

Strong-willed to carry on with his visions,

Eager to be dignified in every competition.

A cold heart has always been his facade.

Indifferent and calloused,

Unhuman yet beating with his warm drops of blood.

The strong man in disguise has a wound in his deepest cores.

His entire being has been stoned by unjust accusations.

He dies in fear of being lost and forgotten,

With no name to bring and banner of ego to uphold.

He now wrestles to find the man of his own,

Defeating the shadow of who he has become.

Tears betray him at night,

Breaking his temple to scream for life.

Tired of unending battles in his mind,

Lies in the horror of his heavy freight.

Now, the strong man is left with no strength.

He was assaulted behind his knowing,

His precious golden hair has been cut off.

Was shamed for his revolutionary spirit,

The world began to trample him down,

Laughing at the fall of him who was a hero for a while.

The strong man then struggled for a rescue,

Hoping that someone might come from the crowd,

And remember all his selfless stunts.

He screamed until he ran out of breath,

Blurry were his blood-shot eyes of red.

Slowly sleeping in the fall of nothingness.

From afar a figure of unfamiliarity comes,

A Delilah is now on her way to approach the lonesome man.

A maiden who would want to give another page of his unfinished narrative,

To reshape the long disdained track of history,

Gently paving the way to save her man who was led astray.

She will attempt to make him and not break him,

Her heart is ready to rebel against their tragic story.

Delilah will smite them with her ardent love,

Then reach out to the him who made her embrace valor.

To you, the Samson of a revolutionary Delilah,

Rest in the peace of her warm caress.

Find comfort in her most felt presence,

Glide your eyes in her genuine touch of grace.

For she might have troubles sleeping at night,

Yet she will take an extra mile only to see you come back to life.

She might be an unwelcomed guest of your novel,

But give her the chance to pronounce her mystery.

She might seem irrelevant as she makes her way to you,

But as she lends her hand the spell might just begin to foretell,

A vision of love in the air of cold,

Reviving the breath of the dead from the ground.