Creature of the unknown forest,
Where it fogs as it rains.
What do you see in the deserted,
While there stood fairest of the fairest.
I sweep old chimneys,
And I don't have a heart of gold.
One glory of the Sunday morning,
I watched two cuckoo birds turn cold.
There was once a prince,
Who invited me into the garden of rose.
I didn't slip a slipper or fall asleep.
So he disappeared like the mist you know.

Creature of the unknown forest,
Tell me what do you see in me.
Do you see me or the eyes of you?
Twisted branch and poisoned leaf.
Just like you, I was rejected and untouched.
I wasn't born there but I grew up in a mud.
And just like you, I wished to be seen.
Now that you see, am I complete?
A barrel filled with open baggage,
I have yet to take, yet to give.
Carry it past the mourning hill,
Where the villagers don't reach.
So take me there,
Be my friend or my foe.
Now that you see me I want to be unknown.

A thousand stars burned  bright,
Crisp and flaky, my skin turned dry.
Waved at the sea, closed my eyes.
I held no remorse, pain was volatile.
They turned me into ashes,
No different colors, only black and grey.
Farewell to all that see me,
I hope to see you one day.

Rainbow discolored,
Burning the ludicrous dream.
Set on the stone,
The story that repeated reality.

Regret was never gone,
She sat beside bearing a child.
Indecisive and fragmented,
An orphan, whose mother died.

The child was trouble,
******* the mother's breast.
Drained her into misery,
Deciding the final fate.

The mother died every night,
Child during the day.
Two head of a compass,
Two-point that never met.

The embodiment of  imagination,
A dream, once seen by the sculptor.
The chisel and the hammer(the love child of two),
A catastrophe or the finest creation.

Polished skin with a little tint of moss,
Augmentation of the ether's divine.
Gods that were entrapped to that beauty,
Cursed her down, only to be preserved inside.

I stand and gawk, allured by the surreality,
Starstruck when I  pondered it.
Beauty lies where beauty bind,
Oh, was she the one staring me?

Before the song of the earliest bird,
Before the sun descends on the frost,
If a fairy were to sprinkle some life,
We would dance past this mundanity,
Oh! another tragedy of time.

But it was too late,
Too late I say.
Abandoned by her father,
No wish to make.

So I  sit beside her,
To make the loneliness still.
Until the morning comes,
Until she doesn't need me.

Dear, you,
The lad of march.
Don't ****** the curves,
Tapping lets dance.

Twirl and Whirl,
A ditty-
Creation of love.

A moment saved,
For the two of us.

Warm days, summer's stripe.
Drained heart's incomplete.
My eyes can't close for it sees what she sees,
Rough sketch of an oasis.

A whimsical story, woven in air,
Dreamcatcher's fairy tale.
Years ago -the glitter and gold.
Kaleidoscopic panorama fades.

Under the cursive time, outside the window,
Collected the dust, of yesterday's storm.
But even in the highest of earth's altitude,
There is no room sculpted for remorse.

The sanctum of the four walls,
Is where the little bird died.
You poor and unfortunate soul-
Daughter of the seven skies.

To detach from the demonic faces,
Is to dive into the elixir that's hoarded.
Chase the stardust sprinkled on the horizon.
Then come and reflect.

(If veins were to rupture, could they scream out the agony?)

Written with the ink of solace, binding thousand poems into letters.
If only strength was held more than between these fingers,
I would distribute them, refreshing the velvet clouds.

Lurid to the gazer, its perplexity intertwined to their eyes.
They would stream down, drenching the orb with its tide.
On the lap of the inhabits, who would breakdown like the romantics.
Like a child with unutterable words trying to decipher its meaning.

But saying that would be enough, would be treason- a lie.
Because nothing could dwindle the ruffle precipitating through the burden of this mind.