Some days on a summer turf
I remind myself that the leaves
Will blow into effervescence as a sudden freeze
As flowers do under the grey sky of winter

Bushes will rustle in the wind
The heat will turn into sorrow and sadness
As the rain pours and pours into a drenched blemish
Like there is no tomorrow for us to furnish our existence on

Like an Indian river that flows
Till there is an end to freedom
Waiting for God to conquer it, everyday
As it tows the sand and rests in the bay

You can't hurt me

I live in the spirit

Not in my mind.

Cloud 9
Force ten
Apollo 11

I'm high in the sky
Driven like the wind
But walking on the moon

Time knocks you
down O love. Why are you
always in my thoughts?

Death and life were
two sides of the coin, in
attendance of king.

No one was a slave.
I walk on my footpath
to reach my truth.

Is it the end of
the tale, as a prelude to
unchanging tragedy?

Irreparable was
the loss of virtue. I will never
be rich of new words.

When I cry, I look into the mirror.
I resist the urge because it’s a vain thing to do, but I always give in. I feel my face warp to look more presentable. Pretty.

Red skin and blue eyes. I can look pretty when I cry. Be still.

If I was not pretty, what would I be?

I don’t want the world
Nor the moon
Or stars

I want you