Clouds over the burial
wept in unison,
with the souls weeping,
for the soul heading,
to heaven.
I heard thunders burst,
and the 21 gun salute for you,
teary eyes all around,
all will not be same I knew.
I have your letters,
most of them will I treasure
as reminiscence of time
of someone braver,
someone forever mine.
He was lying down alone
watching the celestial beauties
some were burning bright
others were exhausted effigies
a wind blew by him
the petrichor smelled fresh
in a night beautiful as this
he wanted to disappear instead
like a faint whisper
more like a smell
spreading every place
where no one ever dwelt
but alas the truth
that is bitter than the wine
he gulped down the bottle in one go
and forgot every sense of time.
he woke up with a headache
lying on the same ground
dusted off his clothes again
and went happily to his town.
she held my hand,
she was not in the mood today,
to let me go,
her playful eyes wanted me
as her toy for the whole day
She bought me closer
gave a peck on the cheek
and asked
“what do you want to hear all day?”
and I said
“Our hearts in silence that fills noise inside all the stars,
moon and universe devoid of love”
I can write out of misery,
can make you feel teary,
about dawning light and loneliness,
of letter unanswered , dark emptiness
everyday has been a test i guess
of where pain hits me most
the nerves or the chest
but why spill ink to spit what’s inside
isn’t too much dirt already outside
can’t we imagine a merry time?
snowflakes falling, oh I listen wind chimes
dark brewed coffee and chocolates too
a dog that barks every time it sees you
It isn’t hard, I tell everyone every time
just let it flow, forget time.
Shadow and light
play alongside
one is dark
and the other is bright
one shows up
and the other hides
one is loved
and the other despised
one lives
and the other one dies.
A look in the mirror
into the alternate world
where dreams are devoured
to combat reality
A look in the mirror
to see the scars
and remember the journey vow
till the darkest night
A look in the mirror
and seeing fears buried dead
long ago with failures
every night
A look in the mirror
not for the heart
but for the soul
that lives and die.
Writings to Heaven 