A voracious world indeed they say. And it will be all black, white or grey; but I wouldn't dare to dream a rainbow in one lifetime. How many are there anyway? In one life time? Three? Four?
Maybe a couple more if you have swallowed hundred galleon liters of freedom in one breath; and are on a roller coaster that goes chasing all the sunshine the only star can offer to shine.

One lifetime- how long is it really? Not long enough to imagine yourself as a majestic monolith, standing tall among the great Stone Age. Yet, this heart demands to dream, even if some dreams can be shady. There are still many people left in this world who have a desire for darkness to envelop them and show them how shattered pieces flow in the stream of blood and tears.


Oblivion serves as a savior to those who fear to know the secret, to swallow the truth. The truth is that all the days are consuming us. It is a lunatic who is eating up our seconds and whispering to the howling wind- 'it's time to go'. And sometimes, it stabs you with a frail cold voice; 'there is no time at all'. There is indeed a tragic flaw somewhere within the starlight and the constellations of stardust. For if it wasn't for time, life wouldn't be against us, it would be with us. Alas, we are just outnumbered with the help of passing days and seconds becomes our last breath, our last definition of living.


See, love isn't lascivious and neither is life. It stands on its own meaning, nothing more, and nothing less. Love is part of life and life gave itself to its contagious intoxicant and blended to become one. Thus, sometimes you wouldn't know how to differentiate from the greater good. Evil isn't it? You ask, 'Where the dark dreamscapes went to?' There are many that solely fathom darkness. There are souls who don't surround themselves with such secrets. They are familiar with death even though they are alive. They die while living. A malevolent disease some would say. It is truly not always about the angels.

Sometimes is about the survivors. The dreamers who are warriors; they shed blood within them and sell dreams in the corner of their bizarre mind. A short life and the survivors say- it still a good life my friend.
They fought those combats in the same battle each day, to the extent that the war itself became void. Then suddenly, they remember, the sky above- looks up and a pinch of star dust falls upon their eyes. Hope revealed itself and once again they believed in something. Something can be anything. It can be vague as these words or as mysterious as death. Nonetheless that was all they needed to bring back a meaning to a moment.

Conclusion; A life tucked into a bottle of stolen stars- usually named as days by those simply breathing. The living, the dead, the survivors, the warriors, the dreamers and the ones that despise life itself- they have one thing in common. They all believe that the stars hold a reason. A reason that tells them that there might be one more day. One more day to believe in all the constellations of secrets in this universe. One more day to dance with the fallen poetry that sings from one tree to another. One more day to be under the shadow of the branches and let the wind rearrange the twigs onto the bodies that is so afraid to live. The chances are that the rainbows will not shine on your death bed, not all the stars would remember your name and the trails you have left will remain hidden. But those who dared to breathe in pain and still believed in love, those will be remembered deeply if not widely. And that is one life for you- merely a constellation of days.

Slithering shadows
Once born under those elm-trees,
A forgotten afternoon breeze -
Left the sight of the dreamer
Alas, time froze at dusk,
Capturing fog in its embrace
The long search for mysteries
And voices of the dead
Took its last flight
O’ wind chimes in the distance cliff,
You stole my summer away.
A body at this instant halted by
Some darkened days-
Caged behind the worldly tethers,
Wishing upon shackled feathers,
To let the wind unravel
These locks and chains.
For do you not see,
This dove doesn't want to stay?
Living with delicate truths
These simple unadorned quills,
Entangled by poisoned clouds -
Her soul wants to flee
Perhaps a petty twig she is
On a secret hill
But to be free is her only plea.

The only truth of this moment,
That the dice is left alone.
Blue, red and white in one row,
A puzzle yet to be known.
Some colors are left to -
Wander in a black and white world.

Warmth can be found
In the corner of
Your little space-
The only bitter escape
Alas, your eyes is still flooded
With an unknown storm set on fire.

Hands frozen with reality,
Faded dreams and life’s brutality.
Coldness has seeped through
The four walls and ground,
Slowly making its way to the window,
Trying to toss your
Helpless sorrow to its home.


But for now, the lonely dice
Still waits for your embrace
For is lost without you.
The color is living
In its own chaos without your touch.
It silently pleads and whispers,
‘Little girl, please don’t drown
In agony without tasting the rainbow.”

Green the color of nature’s birth.
Life revolved around these hues.
O’ lover, come out here and smell the dewy grass!
Remember the times we lay under the vast sky?
In the midst of summer days,
Our names were carved in the clouds.
Unbroken and unheard, we were whole.
Sweet escape to the beautiful world!

Goodness in nature is a celebration.
Running free in the valleys and hills creates joy!
Enchanted by the rainbow after the rain,
Embraced the love and letting go of pain.
Numerous plants and countless fragrances,
Enraptured are my senses.
Remember those glorious days?
Young and wild, our lives revolved around those trees.

In pitch darkness, my soul lingers restlessly,
I vanish within your infinite sky.
Endless in your beauty,
As you accept me almost instantly.
I sleep here bare, motionless.
Just an empty land on this planet,
I try to reach you,
To feel the warmth of cherry-red you display,

Sunset has reached the city of troy,
Bursting into life with such joy!
And here I am in my moments of solitude,
Nothing more than appalling dirt.
I can smell the violets blooming across the distant field,
But you are too far to experience this intoxicating moment.
I wonder if I can ever reach you,
Or even just feel you for a brief moment.
I attempt through the night,
I build a giant tower on this empty land,
And try to climb up to you.
But O darling, I fail again and again,
Like I did once before.
I have an old torch in my hand.
Using its divine light to find your hidden stars,
Knowing you have more than treasures to give.

Soon, the night silently welcomes the break of dawn,
The willow tree that grows in the depths of my soil
Whispers that now is the time.
I anticipate this moment the most,
Where we meet at the horizon once more,
An eternal bond of you and I.*
♥♥♥