I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille

Wounded,hungry and barely able to walk Mr.Harrison,
Trudged at a snail's pace to his garrison,
Only to find it empty,
Except for one sentry,
"All are dead brother, a mutiny had risen.
5/2/2019

It's the time to listen to our own heartbeat
To talk to our inner self.
It's the introspective moment that we need,
To survive in this modern over-noisy World.

Silence has a sound which can't be heard from the ears,
But only by the heart

She tempts me.
Teasing me from a distance
with eyes as beautiful
as the glow of a diamond.

She beckons me,
Begging me to come closer
With lips as red as roses
in a spring garden.

But it is not to be.

Rather than enjoy the splendor
of the one I want.
I instead endure the madness,
of the one I cannot escape.

Reality, it seems
is a harsh mistress.