If my hands
knew no limitations
to what my mind
speaks
papers would
blush
at the intensity
of what
a fire sign
feels

Eighteen―no,
Age is just a number.
Like the page number of a book, her story, her life;
It doesn't matter.
The ending doesn't matter.
The beginning doesn't either.

I read her in chapters, in scenes, in words:
she lives in each and every one.
She is not merely the main character,
she is the plot herself.
And I picture her in my head,
Through mundane moments, rocky cliffs, twisty plots;
She endures.

I don't want to reach or read the ending.
I want to keep reading,
keep browsing through the pages of her.
I want her
to keep writing.
To keep living.

What if this attention or what mortals called fame,
Vanish all of a sudden, will you still stay the same?

What if time slowly takes my voice away,
Will you turn your back and finally stay away?

What if life keeps me under the soil of the earth,
Will you ever voice out all the pieces I've written for the youth?

I'm a small pilgrim of the earth,
I'm the most trusted of the Deities
I'm the enemy of the mother planet
A tiny dust breathing under the vast skies,
Soon I will die and be one with the ground
And fade away like the sunset,
Letting the dusk that they call death
Take over and be in union with the night sky.

The ghosts come back to haunt her,
Their shadows lurking over the ancient escritoire,
Quill in hand, paper a blank canvas,
Wondering if the poets of the past would praise her
Or look on her in scorn,
Will her own words be a wordsmith's dream?
Will she live a travesty and be idolized in death?
She buzzes with unease,
Feeling the fierce grip of inspiration overcome her,
Succumbing her to its essence before it vanishes,
And in her isolation, the words dance,
Sometimes in harmony, sometimes in battle.

We are the scribes,
the poets that open hearts to change the world.

We are the sages,
that move cross desserts that need our lyrics as if water.

We are ground breakers,
who lead the many to travel in our vortex of words.

We are special ones
who awaken mankind inside love
launching dreams, trust, and peace.



StarBG © 2017

With breath,
publication bound by my words
I scribe
as lyrics collegiate onto page.

Red blood cells swim in grace to illuminate thoughts.
White blood cells float in protection mode
as words of light inspire reader.

My heart beats with rhythms to form verse.
My mind searches to anchor illusions grand.
My imagination soars to make eye catcher phases.

And as page void of creative words
is reformed into visions as if pen a chisel
and paper block,

I smile, following my souls path
as author who gifts a readers heart.




StarBG © 2017