I'm tired
Tired of writing poems with rhymes.
Tired of all the sleepless nights.
-Aug 2018

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Shes blessed with beauty
And blessed with soul.
But no man will ever love her
As a whole.

I will give thee my love,
And cause no strife.
I call to mind the last time
That I paid the price.
The price of a man who knew not what love is
Or could be.
A man who never fell for me.

So I find no peace in the air I breathe.
To loseth or holdeth I will be up to thee,
Yet the Stardust in thine eyes,
Enchant thy heart to make you mine.

Darling, thou make ye trees sing,
In Autumn and spring,
perhaps every season in between

So let thee turn to “we”,
and travel to new extremes.
Whilst our fires
Create new desires - yearning for passion
And intimacy.
As long as thou not feen,
Keeping simplicity clean,
Thou shalt not worry
For thy am in no hurry.

So as thy take thy leave,
It came to be
                     Thy heart has fell
                                                For thee.

this is a tale
of two star-crossed lovers
with a love so powerful
they tainted the heavens
with bursts of colours

they were never meant to be;
mischievous little kids
finding love in sinful glee
in laughter, between dreams and reality

and though it was lawless,
they found solace
because in every prison,
they found a rhyme and a reason

but even for a love so great,
they could not escape
the fates’ wrath and envy

destiny pulled on their threads
cut them loose, thrusted them into misery;
for their memories were wiped clean,
but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been

the boy exiled in a far off land
across the pacific sea
the girl trapped in her need to break free
in a realm both boring and bland

ensnared in a labyrinth of woe
the lovers yearned for anything—
for something, for someone,
to obliterate this endless longing

the gods answered them
in the form of two loved ones
polished in every edge,
a perfect someone

but perfect felt too perfect
and not perfect enough
to fill up the hole
left by a perfectly imperfect

until one day the gods whispered
for the winds to push the two
and the birds to tug at their sleeves
over mountain and sea
even through the darkest valley
so their paths would finally meet

and so they did.

in the flurry of a moment
a pair of brown eyes met
and time was frozen
once more

the two stared intently
as if remembering a broken melody
a lost childhood song
branded as a wrong

the birds fluttered and flew
taking the cursed red fibre
snipped them in two
and the lovers felt all the lighter

it was the girl who spoke first:
“**** the stars.
i don’t want perfect,
i want you.”

eyes dazzling, the boy nodded:
“we’ll invert the universe—
the night sky a blank white
the stars pitch black
the earth moving in reverse”

the fates saw and surrendered
as the stars began to wither
for this love is love
in all its splendor

so the lovers walked away with a promise
under their breaths, they both swore:
“i lost you once,
but nevermore.”