Trying to write
                        without words.
Trying to speak
                        without voice.
Trying to draw
                        without lines.
Trying to listen
                        without sound.
Trying to see
                        without light.
Trying to feel
                        without emotion.
Trying to be
                        without being.

*Can you do the essential without the essential?

I have betrayed your trust.
You know.
Yet you say nothing.
The silence in your eyes says it all.
They’re always so animate.
Not today.
They’re blank, shielded, silent.
Do you remember, I told you…
That I hate silence?
It leaves so much unspoken.
It leaves such heavy dents.
Even though…
It weighs nothing.
But its nothingness weighs a lot.
It cuts. It strikes. It burns.
It is cold. Icy.

Remember the years we spent so close?
That was comfortable.
Our silences were warm.
They spoke.
They left nothing unsaid.
They were light. And liquid.
I loved them. They were cosy.
They exuded sincerity.
Animate silences. Expressive silences.

But I've betrayed your trust.
And this silence hangs between us.
It is cold, and it slaps me in the face.
It seeps into my veins.
It reminds me of what I did.
It rebukes me.
It lets me punish myself.
It speaks. Of betrayal. Of lies, of secrecy.
Of things left unsaid.
Of broken promises.
Our shattered trust.
Of blackened tar and burnt coal.
Of stained hands and glassy eyes.
Of smeared dirt and crushed diamonds.
Of torn clothes and broken needles.

It speaks. It is silent.
It speaks. It is trust.
It speaks. It is betrayal.
It speaks. It is sin.
It speaks. It is black.

Your eyes are silent.

The young girl stood staring
A stare void of hope and life.
She wore an unwavering expression
Of boredom, and premature wisdom.
She looked on, through people and through walls
As if her destination was far beyond.
She stood lightly on her feet
Willing and waiting, for the wild wind's companion.
Tentatively, she raised a hand
Expensive reminders of fate, decorating her wrists.
Her palms opened, collecting moments of escape
Sweet escape of moments, from bitter surrender.
Her feet awoke, moving toward fate
To home, where the heart never was.
The girl stared no more with a stare void of life
Her expression, a facade; her destination, so near.
Her will not for the wind, her palm not for escape
She walked on forward, to home, to fate.
Another day will pass, and the ones after that
Her life will persist, reminders will remain.
The wind will come and go, her fate will make her stay.
For here she must be, and here she must live.

Whoosh goes the sound of wind
Pitter patter for the rain
Chitter chatter go the words
And blank goes silence.

Crack goes the gun, boom goes the bomb
Chaos of war and mayhem for lives
But there, two doves chirping concord
The sound of peace - after war.

The bubbly sound of bliss
The silent trip of tears
The wailing noise of mental war
The depressing silence of misery.

Look how they complement each other
The light balances the dark
The dark gives way to light
Same goes for everything.

They’re companions, they hold hands
With one comes the other
With the other comes the one
And life happens when they embrace.

That dent upon your brow
And frown upon your lips
That nervous twitch of your fingers
And the habit of angry pacing

I wish it were of use.

That genuine smile of purity
Those eyes when wide with intensity
The glisten of your tears
And your everlasting hope

I wish it weren't in vain.

Your random endless talents
That silver tongue, the play of words
Your mind so quick, and thoughts so clear
That golden pen, and the wand of vision

I wish… You knew to use them.
Not for you, not for them.
Just for Him, and then for all.

When colours collect dust
And words are concealed
When beauty is shaded
And the clouds are heavy grey

When a path leading to gardens
Becomes one going to graves
And when flowers turned to gold
Are crushed underneath feet

When diamonds cut to perfection
Join the coal once more
And the gold and the jewels
Are met by graves on hills

The world becomes sinister
People deprived of passion
All words and colours twisted
Into an attractive storm…

She said she'd tell me someday
The secret of her life
Her imperfectly perfect life.

Then one day, I found her dying
She said, here you go
This is it, the secret of my life.

Whatever happens, we die
It's a secret so obvious
Yet one to which we're so oblivious.

It's a drop, of all the seas
And the vastness behind it
Is death, the ultimate truth.