from all I could remember
hide and seek was my favorite
when I hid from everyone,
literally I wanted to disappear
from everyone
or maybe
just seen when wanted
but never ever caught
Now I have grown up,
I feel the kid hidden somewhere inside
almost disappeared,
seen only when it wants
but never caught
i wonder who gets bored eventually,
him hiding
or me searching.
It’s cold,
but I am not crawled up
in the sheets
they remind me of you,
Dawn has broken,
I sit by the window
I wait for a glimpse of you
or even a smell,
Nights were difficult
but not quite like the days
where in the everlasting light
I can’t day-dream about you
I take a walk everyday
throughout the city
to find you familiar face,
a dress or even a voice,
anything at all like you
But in the end,
I realize it’s a walk into abyss
empty, cold, lifeless,
like my heart
since the day you vanished.
shining mirrors
literally a dozen of them
or maybe hundred
stacked against each other
as I walk past them,
with the grey sky above
I see two worlds
two realities,
In one there is merry all around
people are happy,
children are happy,
the weather is beautiful
the animals are running
In the other,
people are fighting
children are crying
the earth is dying
the animals are killed
but which of them is a vision made
of glass
and which is the astounding existing
reality
what you choose to see
in either of them
will be the reality
the rest would be a vision
which would be shattered
like it always has been.
If you could be close,
then be close enough to see beyond my eyes,
and whisper to my soul
If you could kiss
then kiss enough to make my heart wounded,
for love is a war I always wanted
If you could love,
then love me enough till it destroys me
either with or without you.
and if you could live,
live enough to be my undying sun
or the moon that I would look for, every night.
Old Strings of Guitar
Nights of Jamming Sessions,
hours spent on writing songs
a million in rehearsing them
and an eternity in waiting
for them to be reality,
to be heard,
loved
and repeated,
and a day comes
when all the strings
and sessions,
create something that
transcends people of all kind,
no matter what religion,race,
or country
we all come together to hymn
it in a starry night.
Writings to Heaven 