And that's when little
Alice in wonderland

Realized
That life's just a cruel joke
One cooked up by
60s social experiments

The mind transcendence
Does no good
When you're stuck in a bone cage
Laughing madly in the walls
Because you realized
They never loved you
At last

Everyone sees
through transparency feelings
Except Alice

Set those walls on fire
Flame to Ashes

Ears I don't need to hear the music you are.
I don't have to sing along to be one with thy song
You are the tune, my words fit in, meaning falls in place,
The voice rises and falls,the  journey of my music thus begins.

You are the river of nectar, that never ceases to nourish my shores.
That doesn't need any space or time to flow through; it never ends.
A drop of it's ebullience, I am catapulted from the flow of your wave.
I roam, searching for you, to return and immerse  in your fathomlessness.

Quiet night it is, as if it still
keeps the mystery in it's womb,
under the starlit sky we relive
the divine happening yet again.

Some, yes never miss the crux,
the truth of the story told in light;
but the fact remains that most of us
are only obsessed with the light.

So the stars hung high up shed
light in many hues different,
we just repeat the customs of yore
or add some more, feel contented.

The effect now is just ritualistic,
where does the mind hide?
allowing rampant darkens rule
making one another fight , it's sad.

A silver star is again born
in a far corner of the blue sky
and sheds it's light on all,we see
sky of our mind keeps on shining.

Do we remember to imbibe,the spirit?
of the rays of the cleansing star
are we aware that there is no
shadow to the star's light.

611

I see thee better—in the Dark—
I do not need a Light—
The Love of Thee—a Prism be—
Excelling Violet—

I see thee better for the Years
That hunch themselves between—
The Miner’s Lamp—sufficient be—
To nullify the Mine—

And in the Grave—I see Thee best—
Its little Panels be
Aglow—All ruddy—with the Light
I held so high, for Thee—

What need of Day—
To Those whose Dark—hath so—surpassing Sun—
It deem it be—Continually—
At the Meridian?

She exhaled, smoke floating from the lips that longed to be pressed against his. The taste of tobacco and chemicals lingered as she watched the cloud dissipate. She sighed and turned her attention to the trees swaying outside, naked with the exception of a thin layer of snow. The sun was finally falling out of view, painting the sky pink and purple on the horizon. She put the cigarette to her lips again, so routinely, as she has done for six years, and she waited. Anxiety grew within her, for the moon was not rising fast enough. She was anxious because she knew with each falling of the sun and rising of the moon, she was even just the slightest bit closer to holding the whole world in her arms again. Her eighteen year old body carried such an enormous weight because she was helpless. She spent every minute trying to rush the stars into shining in the night and the birds into chirping in the morning, to bring her closer to the most grand reunion. Meanwhile, all she could do was chainsmoke to pass the time.

In the perpetual midnight hour
of a life too long
comes a sudden pause
that takes even the most strong.

In the stars
and in the trees;
in the wildest fantasies
the rhythm of my heart
seeks to know
the reason only yours to own.

The stories of your presence
has tainted my ears;
your sweetness has left my heart in tears.
The talks travel wide,
they travel deep,
as if through sunlight,
into my darkest soul,
they do seep.

The light, it burns; it scatches and sears.
It cuts right through these sculptured bones
- out come my secrets and my fears.
And as it does the work it wants,
my mind keeps running further off.
You deserve more than this.
You deserve more than me.
But just this once I must plead...

...come to me now,
for I am ill.
Come to me now,
if only for my good will.

Alas.
In the words of birds
and in the songs of gypsies
I have looked and found none;
save for knowing: in the last and final hour,
this life and its meaning,
without your touch, will ever sour,
making my world come undone.

For there is no more a song to sing;
there is no more left for a sigh to breathe.
In the darkness of the night,
as my truest soul seeks light,
I catch the last breath and hold it near,
and think "If I don't find you soon,
the worst, I do fear".