Like popcorn
The mysteries of days unfold
While the green people still wait
With eyes gleaming with anticipation.
The creaks of the rickety bridges
Of toil and misery
That connect the shimmering peaks of arrival
Have always been a sign
That a fruitful final destination
Is a figment of imagination.
Hope and desire, noticing man’s greed,
Enchant him to step more ahead
Until he realizes that the rickety bridge of toil
Is stretched over a destruction-filled chasm.
Everything is a phantasm.
In the middle of this broil
A devilish playful sound blasters
The swaying bodies of the survivors
Goading them to wake up
And to behold the tormented last seed of popcorn
Forcibly dancing on a hot surface of oppression
Announcing to the fools
That they are crossing the Rubicon.

The torch is passed
The alter is set
The circle is drawn around the cast
Who were reduced to a silhouette.
The scene is pagan,
It suits the coward
Who fancy a gush of goodness
Would spring out of delirium.

Inclinations, insinuations and demonstrations
Are all worthless;
A speck of dust outstrips their sham preciousness.
This is a solid wisdom not a wild guess!
FACTS are the genuine supernatural powers
That build dreams as tall as towers.
Liars’ donations are false reveries and broken promises,
They are the well-known potions of madness.
Sweet ends are in tunnels holding signals
Unlike the liars’ incessant stigmas.

Pits of liars are the evil dens,
That lure the headless dense.
Flee,
Looking back is harmful
So is shrugging at their talk;
Dear, they would never be your folk.
Flee before it is too late,
Believe your instincts;
Their path has ever proved apocalyptic.
If you are that stubborn incorrigible smug
You’ll soon be a victim of a humbug
Whose shoulders would seem the oasis of rest
And would make you believe that you’re the best.

Agile as the wind
Fast as a pace
I sat myself in a quietsome place
Flinging hopes like duck and drakes
Who cares
Whether the spring of the flings were violent soul shakes.

Drowning in the pond of despair
My unbroken talents got hit with a theme
Which source was a desperate dream.
Opening herein gates of exploding potentialities,
The flames reached the infinity and banished dualities.

Breathing out and breathing in
Fiends of vehemence relentlessly spin
Away from the firestorms of my creativity;
I told you; I am unbroken.
Failure is a phantom I control with lucidity.

Wells of talents would gush
Over the unyielding and the powerful;
Mires of despair await the unskillful
Who bury their potencies under whining
And impede their innate brilliance
From its designed shining.

Creativity is an acquired gift
That’s coupled with ceaseless action
And outgoes mental and spirit fractures
Hurt? Work.
Crying? Move.
Crippled? Think.
Desperate? Never bend.
Griefs are mandates, failures are not the end;
Believe me, they are as viral as a trend!

Create your happiness in every broken emotion;
Groves of happiness spring out of devotion.
Yet, beware the sloth of satisfaction
It seals agility and creativity with encryption

I’m happy dear that you have gone;
Losing you is the greatest fun.
Out of my life you should always be;
Your face, I don’t like again to see.
With all your ugliness leave my brain;
In my life you have been a stain.
I’ve never thought leaving you was possible;
Meeting you was truly horrible.
Respect your decision and keep away;
Please, never try to anymore stay.
Expelling you was more than witty;
Keeping you was out of pity.
My patience grew a flimsy shell;
That easily got broken when tenderly fell.
The lesson you capably gave me
Was to easily decide to flee.
Dear, to you I am truly grateful.
The consequences of pity were awful.

Waking up from her grave feeling a special hunger,
The vampire impatiently pushed away her coffin lid,
‘Today, it’s not only a time for blood,’ she said,
‘It’s one of excessive enjoyment not anger.’

The vampire’s hunger was one for companionship.
After long years of loneliness, she, suddenly, felt lonely.
She is in need of a touch, a caress, a kiss
Or any sign of the bliss of a human relationship.

‘This’s an excellent prey,’ thought the vampire.
‘This man’s blood would satisfy me for years.’
Yet, his innocent looks and lovely smile
Curbed her fangs in and made her ferocity expire.

‘A real companion, I need him, not a prey,
Together we would be the day sunshine.
To him, I won’t be like my first blood sucker
Or the one who betrayed and pushed me away.

She looked at her innocent prey and smiled.
He was captured by her beauty and childish looks.
He cast her with similar capturing looks,
Out of ecstasy they both almost fainted.

Amazed they were of the magnetic attraction.
They kept moving closer and closer,
Their eyes passionately met and hands firmly touched;
They are ready for an anytime crucifixion.

The sun and the moon
Are still playing their traditional game:
They gamble on a little man
Who is robbed of his name.
Vicious happiness they seek
When they crucify and blame
A new soul that dared to speak.

Out of the horizon’s den
Here gapes again the two-way road
Where right and wrong converge.
Walking through it is obligatory.
Only the strong
Who dare to pass through it!
Yet, the white-livered may also
Sneak to finish it
Immaculately!
The day and the night,
The sun and the stars
Rise at the same moment.
They appear joining hands
And bold when
Menacing and promising.
Enjoyment is the expected result.
Yet, destruction is the sole reward
In the game of no choices
That ends up by daring voices.