By Nabs

Quiet reign over
Happiness accompanied with dread
The air stills, water freeze
Waiting

Alway waiting
The tell tale of burning ozone
How the wind blew the grass
Hard, unforgiving, preparing

Crystalized thunder
Icy fire, burning Ice
Skin prickles with anticipation
Dread and elation, what a company

Throwing sticks and stones
Fire ready and burning
Burning burning
Wishing to never be put out

To take all who dares

Shades and echo
Silence that sound too loud to be real
The drumming of hearts
Paper cranes fly wildly that day

Message bottles bobbles
Nowhere, they're going to nowhere
Nobody is singing
Song about the war of future and past

The mountains stood strong
For this is a battle they had long known
Never fear, even If they weren't here
But still the animal cower and disappear

The farmers elation
Palpable in the air
For they dance, the dance of harvest
Whilst the air becomes stiller and stiller

Waiting grew taller and longer
Drawn taut
Stings were plucked
No sound, silence, stillness

Sailors, look at the horizon
Praying to the gods that they believe in
To be able to come home

For the sirens are singing silently
About the storm that is coming

Sleep
Nowhere near oblivion
Like ice put out by fire
water crystalized by thunder

the bright colored sand
seems like delusion to me
shooting pebbles like it was nuts
like human does not bleed

fire that went out
thunders that went in
more so, more so, more so.
the chanting that never ends

on and on again
until the land is carved to the sky

By Nabs

Have you ever heard
the sound of the wind dying?

It sounds a lot like your hoarse crying.

Broken moons, stifled sobs
smell of cardamom and pain.
Angry strokes, lightning brush
across this singed canvas.

Paint me with a storm.
Paint me with a storm.

Guttural rumble of disagreement,
muted in its pallor.
Second hand embarrassment
is lethal to the skin.

Broken bottles, broken souls
stuck in a machination of malfunctioning systems.
we never had control in the first place.

We put energies in our sorrows,
forgetting to store them for our backbone.
No wonder we can't stand straight
and look up to the sun.

"Amnesia", we would plead.
Cause all we remember is how to bleed.

Have you ever heard
the sound of the wind dying?

It sounds a lot like the day we went crashing.

Today,
you gave me a
room full of silence
it was so loud
that you can't hear
my heart breaking.

Confidence says,
"Please tell me how to stop being an abstract thought, hiding in the corner of your mind. Cause I want to be real and fight beside you."

Don't forget :
a room is
only as big
as how wide
you open
your mind.
To believe
is to see.