Incarnation of The Words

 A little dwell on the pen to enumerate an expression,

To let the ghost be aware of the dark,

Or the dark be afraid of my ghost,

To entangle a hopeless vision and adore,

A million feelings that knock my door.

A poet, they say need the cry of the muse,

But will they ever know the secret of the doom?

For every time, I lose myself into the room of words,

I call upon a thousand spirits,

To guide my hands and spell the right song.

Enumerating through my past,

The affair of the ink to last,

To repeat the same sentiment of my greed,

I befoul myself into a clown.

To paint me in the ink and enrol the aura of belief,

A poet, they say need the cry of the muse,

But who am I to lie?

I can only wonder and host a point of view.

Deception

  My friend is driven through the lore,

My own self, hidden inside a dark robe,

The mighty exploration of the song

is to him the opiate of this play,

he explores and wonders night and day,

questioning the stars, asking for his name.

” I am the master of my trail,

I have discovered elements,

I am mended with the sky,

But I wonder how to derive

The arduous descent of my life.

Maybe, the world I see is all that is to believe?

My amorous stakes of the need,

My quest can never be deceived,

Of all that I have lost or found,

One thing has been my evasive need,

A desire to dream and bleed with the melodies of possibilities.

I will wonder throughout the fall,

Will look at the moon and dance till I fall,

For my descent is yet to announce,

The vast ocean, self-less and unbound.

I would rather decay in the morn of my defeat,

Then to be obsolete from the dilemma of my deeds.”

To him, the world was an endless hymn,

To him, the moon merely replied,

” Call upon yourself inside,

The lore would bundle your shine,

The descent of the space and time,

All hidden in an empty line,

For when you dance, I seek the night sea,

Pull the river sheets to fall a tide beneath,

The tide shall rotate the wind aloud,

And when you dance, my command shall reach its sound,

You are, the very core to me,

The friend lost in a puzzle with the false clay of need,

Icarus could not fly to me, He was lost within the only sea,

 Why don’t you wake up from the dream beneath,

And know yourself, how oblique is the sight of the dream.

One equation for all the falls,

solve the myriad of the lost accord,

Call upon the wind you breathe,

And decipher yourself, as the leave that dances with the breeze.”

That one incentive drowned his opiate into the river,

He woke up to find me bleed,

For he is red in the river, silenced from the dark isolation,

And I fly through the lakes of redemption,

I was the moon that heard the lore,

And brought the quest into the shore.

I am your name and the name of the hold,

I am the one who never bends with time,

or rhyme in the deceiving space,

The lie that the nature erased.

Naissance Dans Les Paroles

Vous? Avez vous vole dans ce ciel?

Si! Vous avez des ailes de paroles.

From the reverberance of the soul,

To the elusive rhythms of the globe,

I traveled from word to word,

Born with a vernacular of nature,

Driven to the valleys of the world,

Brought up with lures and notes,

Mysteries unraveled and grabbed my thoughts with sigh,

Till I rest and escape back to the reverberance of the sky.

The wings of the words, flying over the verse of life,

With colours blended into the flight,

Rather fading as we reach the sky,

At the end of this poem we meet,

As one, with no words left to escape the lie,

But we look at the naked night of the space,

Where the words had no religion or race,

Blind on the surface we were left to die,

Fly out to the truth of this verse,

Break through the bonds of the world.

A Lullaby from the Stars

I will keep this simple, like our stars,

And I will provide you the scope to the horror,

Maybe the scope to our heart,

My constellation shaped up an ocean for me to breathe,

Deep, blue as if the sky was my land,

And the world was left with an infinite depth,

I was left alone to swim, seek and find.

I was blinded by my thoughts that resonated in my mind,

Hoping they will recon an idea in the space,

Hoping that the stars will recover the creation of my faith.

And then, after sixteen years of wondering in the ocean,

The space revolved around as music creating magic,

The magic that shaped you through the notes,

A fairy that could oscillated with me in the empty space,

I remained my blue after your wings,

The wings that could take me to the real sky,

You were the creation that helped me realize,

The vivid sense of magic hidden beneath the eye.

I hope you know my name, I am the marine of the night,

That called out for the day,

The stars, they planned our scars,

The formations that lead to rain,

And when the time comes,

The lullaby shall renovate showering a vision of reality from the opaque,

With the onset of another day,

We will fly away.

 

Mother to the Universe

Dropped down to the celestial tray in the clay,

Brought up through a vivid theme from a play,

Drowned into a suffocated sense of need,

Driven through a valley forcing the air as believe,

The spirit was left within an abstract of her dream.

She is the mother of existence that surrounded the sight,

Where the little soul was left to fight,

Only the essence know the reason behind,

Hidden in the common lies,

And someday the soul will cry,

And the mother will help her remember a broken tie,

The bond that revolved the stars to resonate the faith,

The bond that shall recall the mother to destroy the dream of need.

Highway To Words

The ink will spill in the sky,

And everything will be coloured blue,

The birds of connotation will vibrate my senses with their music,

And I will be left alone in the vehicle of the loom.

The ink will then weave the world around me,

On a white raw planet,

And as soon as the colours will hit a vision,

I will be feeling a sense that only colours can meet after spilling a smile,

Only stars could revive while the universe celestial light cry for life,

Only the warriors who spilled red on the rough field,

And made a nation out of their reach,

But the highway to poesie is such,

That even while wearing the crown of creation,

The ink will feel dreadful about how the eyes will fathom a believe within me

And I will be a warrior wicked with deeds that humans cannot steal.

Poesie is a vivid structure unknown of its need,

But it swirls like cancer within me.

Pandora

Thunder, darkness and cry held the sky,

She had her feet above the night,

Holding on to the darkest colors and rhymes 

But the rain got her in time,

Then came the colors above and the dark over powered the light

Greed, lust and all the filth held on the spill 

The poor girl then held her instincts, 

Cage was empty now, the color black was gone,

The only thing that remained was hope inside the little stone.

Her name was Pandora and she cried out for the sins,

She kept in the most evil shade ,

Yes the hope within.