They , the grass carps
eat away the algae of my brooding from the pond of my feelings.
Like painters , they paint the blank canvases of my life with unforgettable sweet and beautiful moments by their delicate and innocuous jacose paint brushes.

Tickling me with loads of laughter by their innocuous hilarious acts is their shadow.

Folding the tender age of the two little beauties into my palms for ever is my fantasy and living with their childhood memories shall be my ice cubes on my burning wounds.

I learned the true beauty of the darkness
How awe-inspiring it was
When my shadow took the lead
And brought me to my clarity

Aching,
I stood under the sun,
and for a fleeting moment I saw
death’s shadow aligning with mine

Darkness
Is the shadows of our pasts
To love without fear
We need to see who we are

Sometimes it takes a gentle hug
Sometimes, a journey full of pain and blood
Sometimes you need to feel lost
And sometimes a moment of great love

Through the waves of pain and love
We can begin to see ourselves
Without judgment or masks
Without fear or doubts

The path of existence
Is always heading towards emptiness
As the stars collide and attract
We moved closer to love

In the grand picture of god
All of existence is there to love
To make the love strong enough to last
We created all the pain to feel the contrast

Life is a cycle of pain and joy
As we searched for our meanings and purpose
We slowly moved closer to that love
As we see the truth of our existence
We laughed and cried
For how much we loved

In the rationed sunlight
when there is no sun inside the room
and it is vaguely dark
a figure walks away from me 
like a noiseless shadow.
It walks past the door and kneels
as if to scratch an itch. On the wall 
a shape appears, like a photo frame
in which I see the darkness 
of my dark beating heart, a scratch
running through it like an arrow.
the figure now morphs to a gecko
its shadow crawls up the wall
behind the photo frame
and nibbles at the arrow

Quietly, I walk past
- the streak of sunlight
- floating dust specks
- the noiseless shadow
and step out. 

The photo-frame follows me
with the beating heart,
the arrow, and
the nibbling gecko
still inside, now
a streak of liquid drips from it.

I wear a rain-cloak
under the charcoal gray clouds
ready to burst on me.

I am a figment of your imagination,
A specter of the night,
The shadow passing as the sun rises.
My reality is intangible,
As fleeting as daylight hours.
Do not search for me in the dark hiding places.
You will only feel the breeze of my existence,
Fluttering by unnoticed.