I sense the lateness of the hour,
And I long for that sleeping power.
I want to sleep in my bed,
And hopefully I won't end up dead.

When I was very young,
I came upon
two roads.
One was narrow,
and the other wide.
I knew most people
would take the wide one,
so because I'm a rebel
I took the narrow one.
That road led to
a treasure.
What a difference!

Your words speak to me,
They let me know
There is somebody else like me.
Your words are art to my eyes.
Floating figures from an alternate reality.
Touching my thoughts.
Whispering in my dreams.

Love is a cheap commodity
a form of stock exchange
a currency value
a way to determine a worth.

Hatred is expensive
it raises the waves
it calls for the howling wind
the tremulous quakes
and the shattering glasses.

one, two, three, four
four couples walked down the aisle
the holy shrine shines
the crowd claps in glee, amusement
and some in cynicism

five, six, seven, eight
the claps became slower and slower
the smiles on the faces froze like marble statues
the pregnant women wept
the men groaned in annoyance
the children were the only one laughing

the sky became dark
the birds stopped chirping
the owls hooted in the dark dark night
the gowns have turned to a shade of midnight blue
the bells have stopped ringing

The eight brides stood there and said "I do."

the sun radiates,
the waves crash,
the gulls sound
and I lie bedridden.

the white in the room floods the scene,
the blueness of the sky fails to show,
the glass on the table lands on the ground.

red droplets stain the tiled floor,
my gaze is fixated on the ruins,
the fragments from the collision.

my head hurts,
I can't speak,
I can't move my legs.
my hands merely twitch.

Is this what it feels like to be crashed upon?

they say writing is a form of leisure
because words are powerful
words paint pictures and create vivid emotions
just like the colours of an oil painting

yet, writing can be saddening
because these words evoke memories
recollections of what mattered, what concerned

writing is never dull
because words are eventful
writing has been a way to express since long ago
we aspire to be poetic, fluent and flamboyant
but the true meaning of words always lie between the lines

I am glad that I don't write about fantasies and potential what ifs
because I get hopeful
being hopeful can be detrimental because reality is unpredictable
ironically,
words have become my way to emote
implicitly - writing anonymously

if you chance upon this,
it is a small leak from my canal.