She then heard his voice, With her heart beating faster every moment that passed, Unable to say anything, Unable to breathe, She felt her smile growing, The cold in her warming, Four months, 5 days and 14 hours, With so many wishes that flew by, With so many dreams that saw the night, Of him and her, Of being together, Only to wake up to the sad reality, To his absence, To a bitter reality that made no sense, But today, his voice was enough, His Hello was enough, Just to quench her thirst, Was she dreaming? But it was more sweeter and warmer than the dreams of him, It was real, He was there, She felt alive, After months that felt like ages, That felt like she was locked up forever in her own cages, She finally felt calm. 6 April 2016
"The Wind is not enough, bring in the Storm!", Demanded the great old Tree to her Gnome; A baby Tree was killed, The sad broken heart could never be healed. The calm sky turned grave dark, A beholder would howl and bark; The happy clouds started to weep, The heart that was broken was just too deep. The wind howled with such agony, Scaring away that walked the great land and the sea; The flowers shook with sudden fear, As the Great Old Tree shed her tear. "Let the storm fill the void that linger.", Said the Great Old Tree, that lost the baby tree on the roots of her finger; The Moon was wounded with silence, Of the baby tree that was a home to many winged friends.
-28 Feb, 2016
So much tear, So many who fear; So much pain, Timeless death; Innocent blood, Raising the flood. So many cries, So many lies; Bloody war, Bombs flying afar; Children running, Parents burning, Homes destroyed, No pain they could avoid, Schools shut down, Humanity dis-crowned, Hunger everywhere, No one to care, Little palms, Asking for alms, Political lies, This is where Humanity dies. God exist? I do not know, for this, Why is life full of sorrow, For the ones who have no tomorrow? I wish I could save them all, But, alas! How can I when I am afraid to fall?
Sometimes when I am too tired of missing you, Yet I long for your presence, I ask myself: "Do you miss me like I do? Are you going through what I am going through? Or has it become easier for you to forget me?" I have no clue. Do you have the answers to make my heartache a bit less? I guess, you are the reason for my happiness and the reason for my pain! #Dec20,2015
They call me Skater boy, But these wheels on this board are anything but a toy; You see, I was born without legs, Thrown into a city like a thoughtless garbage. I finally found my way to move around, Through this skate, forever bound; I have these wheels for feet, Trying to make my ends meet; These wheels take me places, Though I wish to walk for once, maybe not for ages; Oh, how I wish to run, Being able to walk, now wouldn't that be fun? I move among the big vehicles, Hoping not to get run over like those bloody dogs; When I see you walk and run, My heart cries for my legs, long gone; Why was I born this way? Was I born this way just to end up begging all day? I am seen by the weary dogs of the street, And yet, I am invisible to the ones who could help me. Nobody knows my story, Nobody knows I exist, such is human glory; If you ever come across me, Try to talk to me and make me believe again in humanity. I roll on and disappear among the blind crowd, Above me hangs despicable cloud, Maybe I don't exist to you, Here I am living, among the few; But these wheels give me a feeling of existence; Existence of a Skater boy, life's cruel essence!
The Great Old Oak Tree was kind, Towards her feathery tenants that could fly, Furry tenants that could hide, Two legged-tenants that under her shed, would confide. The Great Old Oak Tree was as strong, As the promise made by a little girl in her song, As the brave warrior who fought the wrong, As the crazy lovers who loved each other for so long. The Great Old Oak tree was everything, A place of prairie for lovers to sing, A cozy home for calm creatures who'd bring, Happiness and a world full of serene.
-5th March 2016
Weary hand, a tired open palm, Dusty lines that show the age without happiness or calm; A torn-out cloth wrapped around a nimble body, Rotting away alone in a busy crowded city. Soulless eyes, hopeless and strange, And yet she stretches her weak hand for some change; Naked feet, cut marks from stones and sharp glasses where her blood flows like a melodious funeral song, Holds her strong enough but alas! not for long, We all know her as the Stranger of the street. She was once a daughter, A sister, maybe even a Mother; Now here she lies among the sick animals who are forced to eat garbage when in hunger, No one to call a family, Nowhere to call a home, this is where she will always be; Barely breathing, barely surviving... The stranger of the street. Hunger and thirst are her only company, Dust and prayers are her visitors that fills her lips but not her hunger; You have seen her shadowed in the streets of the rich; Seen by everyone but felt by none, decaying in the ditch. And yet you keep walking, You keep ignoring; Thanking the unknown God, that it's not you that's rotting away slowly, Thanking the unknown God that you are not the Stranger of the street. Her life story is being erased, As the noise and loneliness keeps her caged; But there she lies, among the forgotten, among the helpless, among the broken, among the living dead, Every single day, Until she becomes the part of the grotesque street dust, Until the street and she becomes one, A stranger seen by everyone, felt by none, forever lost, The street yet again prepares to welcome another stranger!