Stuck in this shell.
Like a part of hell
it torments.
But at moments
it's like a calm sea
so empty.
Until a storm comes
and I'm the only one
and it goes back to hell
and I can't escape this shell.

If you were granted the gift of temporary flight...

     Would you ascend...
          Just so you could feast your eyes
          on the horizon,
          beyond the confines of weather-worn tiles
          set upon unsuspecting rooftops.

     Would you take soar...
          Just so you could briefly leave the ground
          below.
          And as the land beneath you diminishes,
          all that's you tethered to your earth
          almost instantly would turn into nothing
          but specks of insignificance.

     Would you fly free...
          Just so your heart could entertain the possibility
          of being ensnared by the breathtaking
          view of the sun,
          as it rests its pompous girth upon its bed of
          clouds;
          Like a bratty king sprawled over lavish sheets.

     Would you burst through the boundary...
          That separates heaven and earth.
          Just so you could be bewitched by the full blown
          moon,
          be enthralled by the siren calls of the stars,
          and be a part of the spectacle that is the
          universe...

If you were granted the gift of momentary flight...

     Would you still ascend?
          Knowing full well that soon gravity would claim
          you with less than no pity nor remorse.
          And all that you had complacently forsaken...
          Will greet you with the harshest of punishments.



                    *I would.

A red that burns across the sky,
Igniting the passion of a thousand suns
An orange that streaks throughout the desert,
Reminding travellers of their insatiable thirst
A yellow that sparks amidst the darkness,
Striking hope into the hearts of the forlorn
A green that sprouts along every blade of grass,
Spreading wisdom and peace across the kingdom,
A blue that blends into the soul of stars,
Fueling energy that bubbles throughout centuries
A purple that bruises every skin and scythe,
Rendering pain and thrills in every soldier
A violet that subdues the exhilaration of life and existence,
Leaving waves of aching sorrows and spirits

Many have come to pry me open.
Many have come asking for the key.
Offering promises that the doubt would lessen,
flaunting their oaths as currency.

Plenty have assured that they're not like the others.
They promised that their words were forged in steel.
They had come with nothing else except to offer,
their ears and support just so to seal the deal.

"Forgive me", I'd say... I am still a tad apprehensive.
But I do feel the need to speak...
I do long for ears attentive,
Not the ones which are attached to mouths that easily leak.

I know that there are such ears...
Hard to find but they're definitely there.
They'd be ready to catch my tears,
more than willing to show concern and care...

Yours seem rather reliable... That much I see.
They've come with intentions seemingly untainted and kind.
Don't suppose they'd take my words ever so lightly.
They won't lap up my secrets with treachery in mind.

Again I find myself here at the same spot.
About to hand over the duplicate key.
This familiar leap I hope you'd have me caught.
Please don't give away my secrets for free...

Real life has no filter;
It's sweet and bitter,
     but mostly sweet.

Savour. every. moment.

See life as it is —
a stream of passion
that runs fast and
then dry. So go paint
the sky. no excuses.
paint the sky. do it.

I don't want to leave;
it was just getting good.