Watching the window
she smirked for the life she had
seeing children play
and the birds fly,
she stepped up and spread her arms
jumped without fearing the fall,
crashed in the bed
she layed still
with the brushes and paper flying off
to the ground below,
everyone thought the window was a beautiful painting,
but for her it was an escape
from everything.
“Hello are you there?”
said an uncomfortable voice,
and a single line spoken by a breaking voice
resurfaced memories that were burned
from their ashes,conjured pictures
that were forgotten and lost,
brought words to a standstill,
being miles away from her
he could still remember the smell,
listen the laughter,
see the eyes,
when it got overpowering on him
more than he could bear
without saying anything
He hung up .
choked by tears and silence .
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”
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 