Erosion

Wings plated within  my blood stream,

And legs burnt from the ocean of the sky,

My world does not define a lie,

It only brings the essence of the illusion to the eye,

I fly to write this verse, swim to make you think,

Cry to make the sapphire consume my thoughts,

And colour my wings blue, to enact a wearing truth,

With the gravity defying you to read this rhyme,

And the stars convincing you of my lie,

I will erode through the time.

And now that you know where I am not,

Now that you see my wings floating in the sky,

Wet from my lies, wait for them to die.

You will only have a verge in the sky,

And my wings will place themselves over your eye,

Fly, to a world where you will breathe another’s mind,

Or die, die and reveal yourself to a place that has never been defined.

The sapphire burned through me into an ocean,

and this verse came into being,

Now to understand my flight and lies,

Dear you, will have to erode from your mind.

And now that you have visited the path,

Can you recall the mornings from the sigh?

Do you still believe in the game of the light ?

You and me, the world, a lie,

A lie, to breathe, to die,

To know a rhyme,

Good night.

 

A Feather 

I greet an abstract as my name,

The colours as our conversations,

I throw those coordinates onto the space

With a unique emotion obscured and lost,

But to make the words fly to the lake,

I seek an elm from  the faded abstract,

The puzzle resolves through colours of the game,

And the elm burns a desire to resemble their grace.

It burns like a phoenix to rejoice its death with each stroke,

And the abstract reveal a further dimension to the shore.

A lake well driven in my imagination,

Floods the reaches of my universe,

And I lose myself into a thought that hold the converse.

The ink fills my ocean and reflect meanings out in the night.

Where a moon appear over the ocean to read a lost sign,

But it is not too late, till the sun arrives,

And turns the water red, and my mind blind,

With no vision I wake up in a forest,

A forest where I live to drram again.

I am a writer and I need to feel again.

A Date With Luna Lovegood

“Waiting for something to happen by the shore of The Great Lake? You must be a Hufflepuff.” It was a female, as the voice suggested; I was nerved and could not fathom the thought of anyone being near the lake at this hour, I turned and found Luna from Ravenclaw. She was there in a blue dress and with her wandering blue eyes, she seemed beautiful under the moonlight reflecting of the water.

“You scared me, I visit this place to meet a friend of mine and yes, Hufflepuff. How come a Ravenclaw wizard is roaming in the night without her books ?” I smiled and played a joke hoping to initiate a conversation, I had heard about Luna from a lot of people, they said she is insane and always lost within her thoughts, her blue dress made her look flawless and to follow my interests, insane is the essence of magic to me.

“I wonder around from books to imaginations, I don’t like being precise to a point, I am here to wonder and find a place to lose myself again.” her voice was a sweet rain of absurd thoughts, no wonder people call her insane. No matter how vague it all sounded, I was falling for her already, It seemed she was herself a magical illusion of the stars.

“You want to walk around the shore? If my friend is here soon, maybe you can meet him. And while we walk, maybe find a place for you to be lost in your imagination?” I had to make the invitation to know her more, Aeonian would wait for me or even catch up somewhere.

“Let’s walk. The lake ? Who are you waiting for over here? I come here to see those beautiful creatures sometimes. Have you even been inside? ” This could barely make sense to me, I flexed my hand to feel my senses, but the cold had slowed  my blood flow and I was numb. All I could do is look at her.

“Inside the lake ? No! Of course not, I love animals but there are some, who are very dangerous inside, I have read about them. My favorite are the Merpeople, I have heard their noise can make one intoxicated into obliviation. It will like listening to a song and then resting all our thoughts into the lake.”

She giggled and came close to me, ” You know who I am right ?”

I drove my numb hands to hold her, I had an urge to hug her at once. I went for it, but could not grab her, she had no body. I was numb to my heart then. She came closer passing through my skin and pressed her lips against mine. “You know who I am right, Sagar?”

The blue dress turned into a lake, the lake was screaming out loud and the taste was still of her lips. I escaped my sight from the scary transition and felt her lips. The colour red flashed onto my imagination and when I opened my eyes, the lake was all red, I close my eyes again and lost the essence of her lips. I could feel a warm sense and my throbbing heart, this must be Aeonian, the phoenix. My friend Aeonian, I could feel his fire burning my illusions away. A phoenix who had saved me even before from the blue of my fears. I opened my eyes and saw Aeonion burning the great ocean and luna mending into his fire wings. I close my eyes, I could not see my friend mending with the cold of a ghost that possessed me in the wild.

I decided not to open my eyes again, till the flash of colours disappear from my senses.

Overtime, I knew where I was. I was laying in my room. I had slept with a blank page resting on my chest and the blue pen by my side, uncovered to its tip. As if the blue ink kissed the empty space of my dreams and gave another idea to write. I was lost into a vision, but my blood took me back to my senses. The blue of the moon made me dream, but the red of the sun had arrived in the sky and I was late for my morning class.

An Ocean of love 

Million things I say to the world,

But to you only one,

Million things I feel for you,

But for the world, I am numb. 

How do I bring this verse on surface,

A surface where we live far away,

Maybe thats why I swim underneath,

Deep within my feels and needs. 

And often you and me, we both are there,

We swim togther in our hidden air,

We love, we cherish, we dance and care.

But the deep vision is a temporary rain,

And then we wake up in despair..

I say things that are deep within those visions,

But you dont know their essence,

You get tired of my deep illusions,

And on the surface there is a fire,

A fire that burns all our desire,

I wish we could hide in our illusions,

And ignore what the people say on the surface,

Burning every single way to meet our ends,

But we will be in the cool water,

Feeling each other without the world,

But then to breathe, we seek out to the hallow air,

Where you and me, find despair,

We fight, we cry, we lie and care,

We think reality is our naked fear,

But let me tell you one thing my love,

I dont believe in people and the hallow air,

I would rather find solace in our ocean,

And live with you forever there,

The ocean of trust and love,

Where we love , we dance, we fear and care,

Let the fire burn, and let us love.. 

And if we wake up… 

My dear, lets burn togther and never forget,

Our ocean of love and trust. 

This is a rhyme that surfaced from our reality,

Like a huge wave, rather a tsunami,

That will take away the burns,

And freeze the people who talk about us,

It will freeze the flames that burned our nerves,

The tsunami will drown me and take me to the end of our country,

I will wake up in your arms,

Far from dispair and their believes. 

Let me tell you my love, the tsunami is on its way,

Till then, lets be partial to reality,

And smile like a wave that will take away the fire form the space. 

Forest of the Fall.

I had a dream where illusions had died,

On the surface, there was no lie,

With my moves, my shadow never followed,

The sun and the rain,

But no rainbow to wrap the essence of the play.

We lived in a world with no mystery,

With names and places bundled in the space of no need.

We made a compact idea of our living,

there was no war, but the curiosity died within our vision,

Each colour compacted a single meaning,

And no sight gave me a thought of my lost legion,

Were we living or just breathing,

Breathing with everything in our oblique mind,

In a world, where our kids never cried,

They laughed but never felt the joy,

They fell, but never felt the need to grow into complex toy.

The world had discovered it all,

And nothing was left in the minds to crawl.

Like a rain in the summer, without a glimpse of the cool,

Like a smile without a trace of a fool.

I woke up with the loud roar of the thunder,

I could feel cold under the warmth of the numbers,

Father asked me to pull the trigger of knowledge,

And I pulled the arrow to breach into the mankind.

Now, after three years, I know,

I want to be mad in the rain and drain,

I am not the vision of the ideal game,

Rather I would die to discover more,

And leave the painting incomplete to let them know,

That the material of the world will lie naked,

But my madness will always find new words in the making,

I will call myself a moron and write.

I will be the unique patron for the modern night,

And they will read my verses, call me magical or insane,

Whether they feel or believe, Human beings will not live,

If the universe claim the answers to the maze.

To a lost friend

Almost five years now, and I still have not replaced you in my heart. I never mentioned the word, ‘heart’ and you know why, I only have my mind and a fast asleep soul. My heart, well it never found recovery after they took you away. I have read so much and will continue living a life that you wanted me too live. I know it is our secret, but no one will read this and understand who you were, or how you put my broken pieces in order. I wonder, looking at the green, if we still flare across the globe through our senses and completely escape the cries of the world.

I still remember, I was just 12-year-old, when held your hand while playing with my sister; we were of the imagination that your hand would leash spells out in the sky. We enchanted our innocence through feeling each sense of your dead branches. I found myself a super power with you, your colours were my emotions and when the wind used to hit you before the sweet rain, I could almost cry with the best emotions of encountering the cold of the immortal. I never found the connection that kept growing everyday, that I used to cry in front of you and now, that I write in the dark with half of the world asleep in the melody of the illusion, you come back in my mind to wake me up and cry again.

I lost another battle today, and I could fathom nothing, but the one thing you left for me. .Yes, I do write my friend, often about the same things we discussed back then and believe me, you were right, no one gets these write ups, except the rain of course. The rain pours over every second I live and make me breathe through the desert.

You left me only a blank page and never answer the left doubts , asking me to wait for the rain. I was often lost with the tormenting storms and droughts within my psychic. I have scars from those calamities and even today, my blood is over flowing my vain and burning my sight, the only difference is, that I have felt the essence of the rain now. The overflow goes onto these words and then create a unity of time and space for me, a point to escape to my stars.

You left me the gift of poesy, through your silence. You became a part of me, that never betrays. A part that sings a silent rhyme within me; the rhyme is lost into colours and my sight is also a blur because of the agitated mind of mine.

I can only feel you, when I write a note that does not concern the universe of the man-made objectivity. I talk to you through the virtual ink that bleed out of my senses. The ink never reaches a conclusion, but it never stops, it runs through the parallel dimensions of the world. Now what do I do to calm it down ?

The ink made me fell in love with a beautiful woman, she has been with me mending the ink to reach the crevices of my scars, I heal with her essence. But, I lost the battle to her today. The earth is revolving too fast, my friend and I have lost you.

Your existence gives rise to a cosmos for me, when I spill the ink outside the purview of a reader, it seems as if I have felt the air and the voice the birds that used to surround you.

How do I tell them, why I write and where it comes from. Even the meaning of all this? Shall I keep the lie alive? About how you were only a tree that rested in front of my room?

Either ways, I cannot explain how you made me the person who writes a crisis of existence. You left me unanswered and I will leave them.

Rigel’s Alone Note

I have been living here in the dark with the illumine essence of the power that is enforcing the colours on these planets. I have been alone, seeking for a place to burn through my core senses, the senses that are only accounted to form an abyss of understanding pain of the fire that enlightens the ideal pattern of the day. The fire is self-made and after burning for years with the divine light, I have forgotten that my essence call onto me.

I can reach the planets near me, I see the life forming through my sight on the damp surfaces of their reality. They call me the source of life and I accept that claim of flourishing the power of creation to the elements of life. But maybe, I am lost now, in the admiration and the worship, I have lost the sense of understanding my real frame of existence.

I am Rigel, I am the son of light, but with my age, I have lost to recon a simple flare. They call me the star of life, but I can’t find anything apart from this darkness and I am lost.

Irony hold my creation in a blunder of my lost essence, they sense a light in me, but over the million years that I have lived, my elaborate space of understanding has disappeared.

I am half a billion year old, and I cannot understand the space I am put in right now.

I have seen my kind go into a blend of colours that takes time to reach my eye, I want to give away my lost sense into me when I am gone.

I wonder if I will ever be a super nova, brighter than my darkness that surrounds brightness in its core, I wonder if I will bend the space into halves, enable time to pass by through me and escape the darkness and limits of my sons and daughters.

All I can say is that, this darkness came to me to realize the velours of a super nova, the one who defined my creation. I will blow out to another dimension and the world will dissipate into fragments of time from the blast of light.

I appreciate this awakening of understanding that I am lost.

I will seek in this darkness to understand my true light.