It is tranquil here
Everything silent the air is clear
Unlike the deafening roars
Ringing in my ears.
My vision has begun
To blur
To disappear
A half-drunken cup of coffee sits on the table
Just beyond my reach
A black fur ball curled beside me
Her gentle even breaths
Soothing my own.
I am at home in the gentle whir of the ceiling fan
In the darkness
In the purple half-moons that encompass my honey eyes.
I am at home in this silent chaos
Yet I wish to be elsewhere,
Among the wild city that never sleeps
Or the roaring oceans down the street
Or high in the clouds above
Anywhere beyond my
cautious, safe room.
But a wish is not an action,
And I am too tired to get up.

he liked to travel
around the world
pack up his things
leave without a word
through countries and seas
and blue skies above
see unfamiliar faces
and glimpses of love
over bridges, through canyons
i can sure guarantee
there isn’t a corner
he’d not wish to see
the storms be ******
along with heat and dust
there's not a known remedy
for his wanderlust
yet of all the crowded cities
and squares of empty space
being with me just isn’t
his favourite place

while I chase tranquility
my thoughts are on a wanderlust
riding my clouds
they take me places

Is it wrong to feel afraid,
To feel as if your whole world just got turned upside down

Is it wrong to feel as if you fell from heaven
Just to burn alive in the vast pits of hell's fire

Is it wrong to cry blood tears
After you watched everyone you cared about perish

Is it wrong to feel as if you failed them
Because they are no longer here to cherish this victory

Is it wrong to call this a victory
When you lost it all to history

One day a group of young girls were playing with a ball throwing it up the wall and thereafter cathing it.
Then a longhaired lively brunette dropped it out of her hands with a smirk on her face.
The girls and a couple of guys ran hastily after it.

My Heart Is Like A Bouncing Ball
Small, Elastic And Only Good In Certain Envoirments.

The first - let's call him Blondie, picked it up but didn't treat it with caution and it therefore tumbled out again.
Then Blue Eyes tried to make it stand still using clever tricks and persuasive words, even lips.
But now the ball wanted to keep on rolling, searching for new skies wondering how far it could get away from the only playground it had known.
On it's way it met Big Head, who tried to gain the ball many times.
But the ball didn't fall for flatter, and rolled faster than Big Head could run.
And after it had rolled around the earth, almost home, a fourth guy fell over it.
He looked as it with his deer like eyes, and picked it up.
He had been on his own adventure and had just returned back to his own playground.
He waited for the ball to go home, and return back at it's free will.
And to this days it's still his hand's that are closed around the little ball, protecting it.

the eyes of judging, their stares stabbing my soul again and again.

people stare and wonder why i stray
they will never understand that wandering is my way.

the secrets in here ,
cause an aching in my heart .

the ribbon by my side,
i watched it unwind.

i long to belong,
but i always go.

With mechanical portals known to be doors
That either lead to different worlds or take you home,
These cabled vehicles like tunnels on wheels fastened on a railroad track
Stretch to both ends of the universe under a single route.
And as you get in for closure,
You put your trust on the obscure.

Just say the magic words;
It will take you anywhere you wish to be.
Even though magic always comes with a prize,
The only cost are countable units of your time
And also a few dimes,
In return for the travel of your life.

Across the carpeted walkway of reaching out,
Through the glass windows of visible silver lining,
Behind the blank and arid faces that lure the soul to sink in deep wonder,
The lights and skyscrapers, and mist silhouetting the scenery,
All appear in bokeh, all blend in your eyes;
Your eyes that glow brighter than fire on ice.

The coldness lashing perennially on your skin
And shaking your bones to its final breakage,
Couldn't beat the absolute zero amity between these strangers.
But your fascination has enough radiation
To melt the tip of the iceberg
And shine over what's behind their opaque walls.

Settled on the plastic seats that serve as time machines,
They nestle between unfamiliar bodies;
Static, in a state of inertia.
Blocking out force, resisting change;
Like cars stuck on parking mode,
Couldn't bring themselves to unload.

Grasping on loose handles
With a grip more secure than seat-belts,
Some tend to pull away despite of the constant push.
Like engines on reverse, they take time to backtrack.
For all we know, for every action,
Is an equal and opposite reaction.

The brakes hit; there goes a screeching sound.
But when it comes to a break, we don't really hang back
Or fall to a complete stop;
We only slide forward.
For we must keep moving ahead,
In order to keep our balance.

The portals once again unlock to let you out to the open galaxy
And let in another for the same adventure.
You've reached the end of the trip,
But not the end of the road; nor the destination.
For the journey is infinite; you know you are going to ride again and again,
Until you've run out of wishes of where you want to be where.