a question troubles, island’s peace is lost,
“am i who i am?” eager land inquires.
disturbed, the once serene and calm water,
enraged waves sent off, crashing onto shore.
the answer that you seek i cannot speak,
straightforward answers, never meant to please.
a storm threatens a downpour of yes, no,
confusion flooded, train of thought submerged.
surveying islands, bird’s eye takes the view,
clouds fleet along, marveling at it all:
a lake, a river, waterfalls of hope,
a hill, a valley, mountains of regret,
grown with experience, plants and trees stand,
learning through challenges, animals flock.
“what an amazing sight!” wind blows soft breeze,
“what an amazing mind!” whistles the bird.
land and water, both finally, calmed down,
resolves to address the troubling question:
“am i who i am?” echoes the island.
wind and ocean answers in unison:
“a tiny plot of land, blessed by the gods,
but with one’s hands, an island has emerged."

While I'm being taken,
To a paradise home,
Where all my dreams wander,
And all my friends roam,
She's being held down,
Trapped in a glass room.
She's held there alone,
Because it's her tomb.

I had walked on this lands
when I was young
The green nature ,
magnificent horses ,
multicoloured birds ,
the blue sky ,
tall trees , scattered sunrays
and wild flora and fauna
accompanied me on this walk
around this beautiful island .
This nature's land

Mountains
recede into the dimness of evening
As though God
took this image of sky and horizon
and lowered the contrast
until we were left
with the impression of the Olympics
but none of their usual detail.
In this way
night
overtakes the entire landscape;
stealing along the line of the ocean,
blurring the edges of boats
buildings
and shore,
until the world is inhabited
solely by Soft Things,
and our eyes
are filled with sleep as we watch them.

Minds
drifting
towards thoughts of cloudy blankets
and warm beds.
This,
is how our city puts us to sleep,
as the watch lights,
appear twinkling
in the dusky sea.

An unexpected ****** perceived love
That her own young heart could not suppress
The gap of beliefs meddled their serene relation
A realization opposed the pragmatic conclusion
Torn the petals of the lovely flower
Later has come
So much had changed
Lives have swapped throughout the age
To an island she escaped
With the man whom she revolted against ages ago
Who shielded her with the raging bullets
Her father unconsciously saved for her
But remnants of the past pricked her once again
Yet the timeless love constantly lingers
Another fire is kindled
But one love is replayed
As their emotions once again flailed
through the secluded piece of land
A land that was situated to engender a sensation
A land that was meant to bring madness
A land that was brought to life by their love
A land of waters
A land of fire
Island of fire.

If you see me on the steps,
of the tattered old church,
perhaps I have made a little progress.
Dunwich is a tough place to live,
but the folklore is rich.
In fact, if indeed I am sitting along the steps,
I would be right near a witch and a vampire,
a few ghosts,
and a revival of my spirit.

This small ocean side where we'd run play and hide is slowly becoming alone.
I wish I could go back and see all my friends the sailboats are calling me home.

Ive cherished the hours my tree skin and flowers,
the worldwide stage show makes me whole,
never did I think Id leave all the lights on under the sun-shining nights.

On a cold springtime night keeping eyes on the sight,
the bridge has been lit up again,
I stood in my tower for more than an hour ,
with a friend who would soon leave my side.

The cold winter nights and the hot Christmas lights,
The bugs that fly through the air.
the pallet is made with the games we had played on that frozen lake on the saddest days of the new year.

The leaves started falling and fish started flying ,
I always remember that day,
the corn maze is new and the pumpkins are strewn,
and there in the leaves I could stay.