spent so long
finding quiet
those moments between thoughts
calm the mind
still the pulse
craved it forever
the quiet
it has arrived
here
now
yet
all I want is to hear your voice


@journeyofdays

1761

A train went through a burial gate,
A bird broke forth and sang,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
Till all the churchyard rang;

And then adjusted his little notes,
And bowed and sang again.
Doubtless, he thought it meet of him
To say good-by to men.

Still
You
Rise
Above
The
Origami clouds
Paper moon

Colour the skies maroon
with that angry red streak
that you always have,
and the way your blood boils,
scarlet rage that brings rain so cold,
hail pelting down from the heavens
making me question religion;
making me question myself
again.

My skies used to be blue
with clouds painted, floating in grace,
a yellow sun in the corner of my page
back when I was younger than youth.

Though my skies are fading to grey,
I see the colours of your rage
so I'm making history for myself
this here, this now, these words,
writing until I break.

*Writing to escape.

Million miles of distance
doesn’t lessen the star’s shimmering radiance

flawlessly resembling her alluring pre-eminence
A glimpse would strike my heart with a soothing trance
I would move, but go nowhere

My standstill eyes would seek one more fleeting glance
The presence of an ocean of silence echoing the distance

Aggravating to witness the mirage with qualm
Indefinable is this wayward sight of another person’s soul
How much shall I eulogize, how much shall I extol
A stranger I am, concealed from her, straightway invisible