#sri
Cold wind blow softly touching my cheeks...
Its the darkest night which can be cut into pieces..
fireflies create a missed starry night on earth....
I walk through the stars.....
I hear voice of the night...
I hear whole world breathing...
some are sleeping crawled up in warm beds.....
but i can't miss this night...
People used to look up in the night....
but with full of fireflies and cold wind...
it always make me to stare at darkness
May, its a full of endings and beginnings
maybe its cold as December or 34*c degrees hot
its May....people used to make fancy stories
that really happened in past
Revolutions, Religions, Uprisings ....
Everything started and ended in May.
I cannot say for sure what a beauty I feel this moment.
May 16, 2020
May 16, 2020 at 4:41 AM UTC
a jihadi terror blast
of course it was
to **** their christ
to burn the world
look at the blood
its splatter
but it doesn’t seep
because for them
faith is what matters
history changed his skin
to match their writers’ hue
pink, ginger and blue eyes
he looked more like me
than like you
yet when hell killed his friends
that look like me
all eyes dilate
all kids dead
all skin burned
all blood everywhere
all blood red
a plea for the common
that’s what i said
because man < men
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 7:59 AM UTC
We make up our stories
Our logic and rationalizations
For what happened
That shouldn't have
And
For what didn't happen
That should have
We say
God is benevelont
The universe is your friend
Don't worry
All is well and always has been
Yes, these are good stories
And maybe they are true
But what can i tell my tears?
The arise from a deep well
within
my heart
The well of tears
They cry as they wait
For the moment and day
When this friendly universe
Makes up its own mind
To bless my clouded eyes
with the vision
of Thine Feet
Blue Feet, Bamboo flute
My life, my love
My refuge eternal
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC
Born of Earth
To return to ashes
In the lightening span
We call this life
I pray
My Master Divine
To make this little light
I call my life
Your own song
Bless the last note
To fall
As dust
At Your Lotus Feet
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
i am lying on my stomach
starring at the blue elephant prints on this duvet
i got from Sri Lanka last year. and there's
a small voice in my head
that says to me, do not fall in love again.
but i do it it anyway.
-- Eleanor
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 6:34 PM UTC