Sometimes I really wonder,
What would it be like,
To be like a thunder,
Always ready to strike.

And yet there are days,
Whit this simple blue sky.
And warm sunny rays,
That make me wanna fly.

There are also some nights,
When stars seem like flakes,
And moon slowly glides
Upon reflection in lake.

Beauty really has no limits,
Every given present time,
There's always chance to seize it,
Words like thunder, strike with rhyme.

All I see is nights follow days,
Or the other way around.
We are dust in the space,
In the train, Nowhere-bound.

There once lived a boy
Who lived on a farm.
He spent every day
Taking care of barn.

He walked many miles,
At times when he could.
To go see sometimes
A girl that he loved.

He'd bring her flowers
That he picked himself,
His soul felt aroused
At sight of her face.

Long after some hours
They'd go for a walk.
There was an old tower
On top of the rock.

They'd get there by dawn
And celebrate life,
And bound to grow
Was mutual love.

This tale  is as simple
As wind that blows high,
Or indigo ripple
On lake before night.

That moment
               When all falls
Into perfect place
               And stars align
In certain matter.

I wish of happiness,
    My lovely friend
And welcome guidance
                 By returning debt.

I feel emotions,
Shooting through my brain.
Complete  devotion
Of a mindful strength.
      And mind with body,
Paralleled,
By force unknown.
    Together strong,
    Separate,
No longer grow.

Long distances,
If looked upon from space,
No longer long,
                 Good riddance!

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
It’s the sound I hear at night
Of a clock that’s up to brag
Of it’s skill to move the time.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
Every second in the dark
Leaves inevitable mark
On a heart that stopped to hark.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
Even candles know the tact,
For I see it’s burning tongues,
Kissing air in the glass.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
Coexisting dark and light,
Moving arrow never stops,
Serving purpose of a guide.

Tic tac, tic tac, tic tac,
I hear you whisking into night,
Sleepless, one and only clock,
Softly bragging in the dark.

Silence
Are you here
So I could break you?
Tell me words
That I've never heard

Silence,
What's the science behind you?
He who knows
Is no longer hurt.
Bound to break herd
And walk his own way,
Chasing tall risks and growth.
That's how this story goes,
Bell sounds and colored windows,
Inspired once remains inspired,
Far from silence and yet
So close

A traveler's best worst friend, -  
      A path paved with round questions.
      Endeavor worth of an attempt,
      To dive without hesitations.

      Crawling doubts went to the dickens,
      For today he made up a draft.
      Only maybe his thoughtful believing,
      The onliest gift that he ever got.
  
      New ideas got their innings,
      They are better than before.
      Many choices to begin with,
      Does he know what they are for?

      Mindful state eventually is winning,
      And seeker ends up being a paver.
      He knows the end is only a beginning,
      And road he built will lay forever.

Arete,
A mountain’s peak.
The image upon which
my gaze is laid.
Your hats are sharp, lopsided.
Connections undivided
as if the edges are the spilth
of what’s originally planned:
generic blueprint of it all
known only to eyes
And ears that are open.

Arete, stay there.
Cleanse their sight
Dispelling clouds of doubts.
Reveal the entry left behind
the unimaginable youth and
bring us to a higher truth.

I remember the time,
                    When I was so fright less,
                   I committed small crimes
                    And broke into gardens.
                  
                      I sat on the station
              And watched trains that pass by,
                    And party's duration
                     Was  not on my mind.

                     I remember your smile
                    And emotions it brought.
                    What a beautiful time
                       To be living abroad.

                     There's always a light
                      At the end of each way.
                       I am doing alright.
                     Shall you ask me again.

                     Oh, things I remember!
                      At the end of the day,
                     Only few of them matter.
                       What else can I say

It’s funny how you find
        When you decide to never search,
        Or lose while holding tight,
        Heart shook and hands all scorched.

        The only way up is down,
        The only way down is up,
        Fortune’s unfortunate frowns
        Contiguous to sudden luck.

        Ten thousand strings of entries,
        Shaped into millennial gaps,
        Glass is half full or half empty,
        It all comes down to that crap.
  
        Realities of dual nature
        Against the stream of real dreams,
        My personal
        Coincidental future,
        It’s what it is, not what it seems