Yesterday it snowed.
Big fluffy flakes whirling down in a flurrie of white.
But they lasted only seconds, as they touched the wet ground their state changed, they left behind their cold, hard edges and symmetry and became fluid and liquid. there was no going back to its delicate structure, just like all its brothers it was something new and they didn't choose it. They were forced to adapt.

A broken vase, angles jagged
With sharp protrusions, fingers
Barely holding, splinters
Unglued, finely balanced

Pieces lying one on another
Holds shape together, barely
Slightest tremor, injury
It all threatens to shatter

Vessel has its supports gone
The structure has no resilience
Absent lustre or brilliance
Shards in spotlight glisten

Why not glue the vase back?
Why leave dangerous pieces?
Painful protruding edges
Waiting to shatter or crack?

Fixing glass means danger
Can create injuries and worse
Injure self, injure others
And vase can break further

So, hold collective breath
And leave the shards askew
Meanwhile, dangers rue
Resolved only upon death

Jagged edges, you were sharp sharp sharp
Baby, have you ever seen me look so dark?
I love you, don't you mind mind mind
**** me
Is love blind?

The sun does arise
In that aubade way
It spills out over petals
Infinitely
So silent but a discourse:
A camp of brook and pale-freckled
Leaves,
A clamor of engines
Escaping the scene
Too busy, too distant
To actualize their hum.
At the intercession of wood and modern man
I stood dutiful, tenuous,
Apt to standing still
‘Tween what has my calling
And what, my will:
This aesthetic simplicity, resplendent awe
Stays with the punch-card
On my way to work
But I know I’ll stand at the edge
Once more.

They always told me of my pneuma,
This creative spirit,
Capable of conquering nations or liberating the unjustly incarcerated
Unearthing fabled, folkloric myths,
With all the pummels I’d expect a brain cyst—
Still, he trudges on,
Like a scapegoat in its farcical, ineffable glee—
Why are you telling me
To manufacture and market my life
Like an indulgent, indulged on swine
Conforming to the convention,
Supporting units of straight edges

What in this straight-edged maelstrom
Can help the creative pneuma
To thrive in a place so confining and restricting
And detrimental to discoveries, breakthroughs,
Spiritual sustenance?

The jagged edges of rocks
Get smoothened by flowing water
Yet, the broken mental edges
Cannot be soothed by the flowing emotions
Holding on to life, hanging from a precipice
Not aware of the surrounding, but mental agony
Blurry eyes and senses, leaves you forlorn
Donning a black cloak, coalescing with darkness
Oblivion beckons with enthusiasm
To make you a part of the lonely journey
Travelling with a heavy load of denials
Yet, the rebuttal, becomes the only truth