Just too many questions
Twisting their question marks into hurricanes
inside
the mazes of my brain
|[ ]|
There is an urge to
grab the answers
now
With the hook
of the question marks
?
To let the question marks straighten
slowly into
exclamation marks
!
To then swallow
the stem of them each

To leave a full stop
.
An answer.

She's hoping to go back to the light soon
Spending summer nights, returning home
Ever longing, staring at the moon
The sun, stars, present time
As days stay in form
To witness the show
Of an intergalactic presentation
And with a long applause
Break their silence
At first dawn

She's hoping to go back to the light
To see her leading stars
Shine so bright
And take their chances
On a second deal of cosmic proportions
To take the hand of the dusky dancer
Who'll secretly romance her
With his many rings of ancient stones

She's hoping to go back to the light
From planet earth
Where she stands
Looking so small
Staring insignificantly
Into the Source of it all

She's hoping to go back to the light
Where it all began
To meet her maker
And create a new deal breaker
Of significant power and force

She's hoping to go back to the light
The unconditional love
That breaks through her heart
Slipping through her fingers
Sending messages from above

She's hoping to go back to the light
No more to be reborn
In physical form
But to rejoice on a higher plane
With no more trial or pain

She's hoping to go back to the light
Where clouds are no longer formed
And the sun is the only star she'll see
Where through the darkness
There's nothing endless;
Only the promise of being free.

But inside...I know
That perhaps of a spark of it is still there

And that very spark,
It will grow and grow, faster and faster...
Just like the way,
A perfectly round cherry does

And from that little orb of light,
It will bloom,
Burst.

Give way the gooey goodness inside.
Empty it all until it is free.

Explode.
Crackle.
As if celebrating its final achievement,
Showering sparks absorbed by the air.

As they heavily rain down,
Like a group of shooting stars.

What was once a spark...
Now a firework.

Air particles
Swirl round and round
No different as before

An ant,
Crawls towards my hand
And I squish it ever so slowly.
I cannot feel the inky mess at all

It is nothing but a tiny black dot
That simply just moves

The sky, looks nothing more
Than an endless pattern of blue and white
The trees, saplings of tasteless broccoli
The grass, strands of wild hair

The insects, filthy lice that live in amongst them
The flowers, mini cracked plates of emptiness

The birds, flappy pieces of pasta
The rain, annoying lost beads from broken jewellery

How does the sun watch over the world each day, let alone rise and shine?
How does the moon travel the empty black, let alone rise and glow?

The world is nothing but a meaningless dream...

I had plenty to say. But you just wouldn't listen. ..  so I farted  and that got your attention..anything to clear the air. ..
Between us..