A month named after Maia
A transition from spring to summer
24 rotations on its axis
19 circles round the Sun
A boy born, his future uncertain
Years of hardship, keep enduring pain
Heart shattered at 16,
And haven’t recovered from the loss
Her body cremated and ashes in the river
Never got a chance to bid farewell
Turned 17, oh what a miserable life
School life turned to hell, full of rumors and lies
At 18, graduated from school
His efforts and work never came to ripe
I hope you’re okay on this fine Friday
Accept my regards as this poet turns 19
Cause I haven’t given up yet

death came from rattle snakes
build a fort just to dig his grave
air became thinner inside
with every single inhale
mesmerized by the good feeling
his obscured vision of love
couldn’t differ between words or places
memories that still haunt him at dawn

one common bite and 100 different faces
excruciating pain and smile on their faces
black dahlia flourished in my rose garden
my eyes rained, someone punctured the cloud
scandals that can ruin lives, lies that can take lives
a friend is not a friend of yours
beware of those snakes
who befriend you and **** your soul

i feel tortured in winter, the fog  reminds me of good times
when my gray world turned to blue
i feel tortured in autumn, a season spent missing someone
a total love blackout
i feel tortured in summer, a summer meant to be full of love
turned to gray
i feel tortured to see rain, it reminds me of weeping nights
and when i was in pain
a tortured poet and his tortured seasons
a tortured poet forced to be tortured by torturous peoples
because of their torturous sin
a question why did i associated my memories
and made my seasons tortured?

darkness dark the dark storm
my solace disappeared in that storm
one, two, three, I counted days and nights
lavish emotions, I cannot afford to feel
cactus grew out instead of rose
rush of emotions, I never felt before

my thousand white tulips, turned to a thousand red rose
clouds cleared and baby blue sky
in aeon, I felt at ease in that storm,
i fought my fear and my ghosts

dear gentle reader’s, go out and have fun
the summer is here, go visit a bookstore
feel the zephyr as it touches your face
when sun is up high and
swan’s playful game in the lake
sit by the lake with poetry in one hand
watch ladybug climb up your hand
lay down your head on the green grass
watch the paintings that tree shadow paints
forget your tiring efforts, make new memories

drops full of anger, guilt and betrayal pouring down
from my eyes like rain in a sleepless night
soaked in blood and it’s stains on my gray shirt
two daggers stabbed at the same spot
their existence in my words and work
but for them I’m just a mirage,
a pseudo reflection of life in a dead desert
a hand to pull them out of it, a toy to be pushed into it
a ecosystem flourishing in peace but burnt down by fire one night
my quill, my papers untouched for a time,
lived in an illusion, a lie, that unforgivable sin

standing on a cliff, waving at the ship
drought hit eyes, a sorrow ending
happiness in goodbye, never destined
lessons learned, pages turned
a new chapter waiting for his return
five steps back and five steps forward
amorous story and remergence