She thinks the leaves will change just for her, If for long enough she stares.
believes, She's in the Praying Mantis's constant prayers.
Thinks the sun doesn't really shine 'till she takes a look outside.
believes that fireflies only light up to impress her.
Somehow, she Believes all of this, And still thinks she's of the lesser.
She tells her secrets to the Trees and doesn't care how she looks.
tells her fears to the fish, as she frees them from their hooks.
And to the Praying Mantis, She tells her past,
hoping, it will pray for her future to take a smoother path.
Her Future.
It couldn't come any sooner.
But it's of it, she's terrified.
Confined, to the present time,
She's a prisoner of her own mind.
Scared, of the unknown.
Inside, She's still a little girl, But oh, how fast her body's grown.
She thinks Nature is the only thing on her side, And her enemy is time.
She's already sick of this roller coaster called life.
But hasn't lived near many enough days.
She says,
Praying Mantis, Should I close my eyes the wrest of the ride?
No answer, Yet silently he prays.


© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn

I am seeking order in this chaos, symphonies in inexpressible thoughts
I am trying to attune myself to a reality I can’t hear.
Days pass darkly, tonelessly.

In my head, a cacophony of sounds are violent.
Broken strings of violins, the keys of a piano whose keys have been
Kissed by death. My heart has never known silence -
Reverberating within me is the sound
Of a bird that never learnt to sing, only scream.

I want things finer than words. Instead of this stasis – I crave orchestral magic. I don’t mind if everything I touch turns into a tragedy,
As long as it is art:
I want to master the laws of beauty, and then destroy them.