ive fallen in love with your words.
i want to watch them run naked from your mouth.
i will pamper them with paper they can dress themselves in.
i want to feel the vibrating colors they give
to the shapeless light of the world
when they speak.

i want you to invite me
to watch them make love,
and watch their childrens bones grow.

i want to give them my kidney

and take a vow of silence for you
with everything but my eyes and ears.

i will not be able to die until i see your response....

which i will hold in my hand
until it rots.

caterpillar crawled in to my ear
it pupated, waited
quiet in the dark.

my mind flies towards all light.

I am but willing prey to the wiles of the full grown moon.
She guards the night sky...
While I patrol these grounds...
Grieving over the seconds that have gone too soon.

I am a vessel... all emptied and barren.
what once was full,
now echoes faint
the glories of yesteryears.
Afloat still, adrift upon the currents... aimless and sullen.

I am a ghost... haunting no one but my own.
Immortalised...
Anchored...
to a body of mist and haze...
Occupying this space where worthy wind had once blown...

I am a beggar offering nothing but my open palms.
Hope etched tight
into my knackered knuckles
and calloused digits.
Please... take them in yours...
soothe them...
grant me your touch, your coveted balm.

Sacrifice of desires, sacrifice of wealth, sacrifice of social status, sacrifice of relations, sacrifice of inanimate belongings, Would the sacrifice be sacrifice to become of God?
And your mind wanders and fetches bits of pain you felt when you made that one small sacrifice and answers "Yes" if sacrifice is pain, there would be pain to become of God.
Your soul replies, "To bear that pain you need to experience pain, to experience pain, you need to sacrifice. Pain births the strongest. Be of pain, be of God"
Choose the road of cobble stones, and you would walk alone.
Choose the road of thorns to reach God,
You would walk with God.

Some people are of God,
The thinning of their sole, torn shoes and worn clothes tell the tale only hearts of God hear. How blessed, for their treasure lies within, no fear of loss, no fear of pain because the glacier of faith they carry within is too magnificent to be beautified, yet too fearsome to let any fear linger around the edges.
Everyone of us is a keeper of that glacier. It's only, that the burns sometimes melt the forted edges of  iceberg of faith. But the keeper knows exactly when it happens, and when it can happen. And do we not sometimes melt and do we not always gather our blistering crystals, do we not bear the burns on our palms and yet we stand strongest after the burning waves of fate pass on? It melts, it smoothes, it shapes and after all the carvings in the keeper's castle, makes him even more majestic.