I put on a weary eye,
Submit to the night sky,
And then I write;
Of how the kaleidoscope colors,
Are now melancholia infused.
Of how the travelers have become vigilant,
Of how the birth of every dawn,
Has become impotent.
Of how the nothing has become our everything,
Of how I can’t even have a chicken wing.
Of how I’m livin’ the highest of highs,
And the lowest of lows…
The night time sits on my chest,
The melancholia starts to infest,
My very mount Everest.
The darker hues unfold,
I ponder upon the untold,
Stuck on the highway of uncertainty,
My blood may never rejoice in harmony.
So, I put on a teary eye,
Wishing for it all to leave with the tide.

Has anyone else noticed that the world's on fire
Kindled by the wickedness of man
Strike a match, watch it catch,
fan the flame, add some gas
Do we really need to give Satan a hand

As it all goes up like a funeral pyre
Will there be anyone left to mourn
Professional Wailers are hired
with crocodile tears to cry
Just don't tell them the truth of what's going on

Be careful of where you walk these days
Don't step on the burning coals
That are tossed aside
out there to disrupt daily life
Do those with the matches even know

That the world they are burning is their very own
Caught up in their winds of change
Being blown this way and that
till there will be nothing left
Of what normalcy once remained

Flip it, hidden or showing
Head or tails remains same coin
Just like water, liquid or ice
Roll a 6-sided once or twice still same dice

Life is like a throw-able object
That can rest in multiple positions
But not a gambling device or gadget
For causing random seasons

For each step forward feel your back
For the lack of eyes invites a stab
Elevation heads towards enemy attack
When the wise bite like a crab

When you only stare at the window
You don't see outside and beyond
And the world is a mirror, smile for this sake
But your real one can invite another so fake

A buffalo by a riverbank
Only sees the water and it's own face
Quenching thirst expecting no attack
By the crocodile below the surface

Chickens are better for they stir up dust
To pull out worms and ants
Humans are clever for they hide in masks
To pull some stunts

Two worlds collide in one single moment
when two give into their love, binded and
powerless to avoid such holy power. Give
a slight laugh, to learning that it could
happen outside Heaven. Unlocking hearts
and speaking it’s language. Outside of
poetry, forgetting the melancholy life in
a loud roar towards to neolife, retreating
that breathe by leaning in for a kiss as
opening gates to the souls to meet and
make love. To live alone, outcast to this
world where the rest are sharing, blind to
real love that poetry had attempt to teach
them, without asking for anything in return.
Where the lovers gestures, emotions,
thoughts and private world, spark such
great works of poetry, that will get made by
active Muses, surely humanity will not ignore,
though I’m sure they will. Real love to find
and to know, is rarer than finding myth in
reality. Behind closed doors of minds in marriage,
sing songs unwillingly, of what’s different
to the veils they dress in.    
(knowledge variable)

Born into a world,

A place where the nothing was my everything.

Dreaming away a dead life,

Doomed to the broken design.

Goes by a little stretch of eternity;

More than meets the eye,

the soul catches a glimpse of another,

Looks once more to find it's its other. 

Resurrected at the sound of a halo,

The bits of familiarity in the universe of peculiarity,

Resonates across the hollow.

Once more allowed to a spark of happiness,

Sweeter than any childhood dream,

Euphoria is no longer a distant memory. 

A halo full of fire,

The nothing expires,

Burns to the deepest ground 

Scared of the fall,

Dreading I shall crawl,

I touch the ground,

And I lay in awe. 

All I feel,

Is the highest of peaks.



Endlessly hungered for this love,

Bitten by rust,

Floating in the clusters of mistrust. 

Now nothing obstructs,

The mixing of two frigid souls like mist,

The flows of the river of pure bliss,

Fueling the fire of every kiss.

Now I press my head against my pillow in rest,

Knowing mornings shall be the inhales of

Musk and spices off your chest, 

In our little mosaic of truest love.

Seeps into my bones,

All the silver and gold,

Lingers For as long as time can hold.

Flaunting this treasury,

The you in me.

Ever wondered what it's like,

To be the silver lining to my cloud,

Amidst the cold winter's howls,

To lock eyes with your sweet brown eyes,

Feel their warmth

As they wrap around you like a blanket,

Engulfing you in their safety. 

To be the only elixir of love,

That mimics the joy of the sun. 

Good morning my sunshine;

The love of my life.