A dingy dwelling looked through a weary window,
That outlived the people who perched within,
Once the hub of joyful moments,
Had a tragic tale to tell.
A moldy box full of withered letters under the bed,
Once mended bonds that words couldn't speak,
The sharp broken pieces of a porcelain vase,
Once housed red roses on every weekend.
The crooked strings spawning off a rusty guitar,
Once strummed the sleepless nights away,
A shattered mirror clad almirah near the window,
Once helped light up beautiful faces before outings,
A ragged comforter lying folded at the corner,
Once the source of warmth for two beating hearts,
Today the faded possessions lay in abandonment,
A band of silent cries reverberating amongst the walls,
With streams of dried up memories garnishing the remains,
Still awaiting the daybreak of a second chance.-
Once I was tiny and wobbly,
And lived and slept with the golden ball in the sky,
When my mum fed me food,
And shared stories of her journeys from afar,
That's when I learned about the city,
A bustling place where time never stands still,
But my mum warned me of the city,
The trials and tribulations of life there.
When I was young and charming,
I roamed the deep valleys and mighty hills,
I talked to the river and vented out to the sea,
Then one day I flew high and beyond,
And reached the place my mum warned me of,
'Twas loud and harsh, the land of survival,
But nearing a window affixed of iron rails, I peeked a sight,
I saw a man behind bars, isolated and forgotten.
Today I'm old and weak,
And I exist within a cramped space,
My day starts and ends with a click on the wall,
Noone to converse over a hearty meal,
Oh yeah, I have grown a new part on my body,
Similar to what I saw on that man,
It's dark and heavy, that restrain my wings down,
Thus I wonder, are we one and the same?-
Stooping on his frail he goes to his favorite place,
Just at the brink of dusk,
The fragile fingers desperate to seize,
The rugged wrinkles enduring the wind.
When a lost ship set sail adrift,
Dwindling slowly in sombre silhouette,
When the sun melted in a palette of crimson,
In the wake of a new dawn,
When the blue brine seeped into the golden grains,
Nature bathed in the bumpy waves of the moment.
Beheld this scene was a heedless smile,
Comforted at one corner of the balcony,
Clutching on to an yellowed frame,
'Cause he lived that picture in a beloved memory.-
A chilly snowy evening in full swing,
Yelling by the window panes resisting the winds,
Knocking the study flickering with flame of the lantern,
But tearing the blue, a bookshelf began to rattle.
Fourth row second from the left chuckled,
A red book with an illustration,
"Love is a romance that always finds a happy ending",
Read a bright page 167.
Third row first from the right sighed,
A muddled black book,
"Love is a tragedy that shakes you from within",
Exclaimed a withered page 248.
Second row third from the left shrugged,
A diary handwritten by someone,
"Love is a poetry often forgiven but not forgotten",
Recited aloud from a yellowed page 365.
First row extreme right interrupted,
A science book of some sort,
"Love is chemistry induced by hormones in response to a stimulus",
Taught by the wise-looking page 446.
Some pages from a bunch fluttered on the table,
A manuscript just completed,
"Love is growing together, despite the hardest of times",
Smiled in satisfaction by the last page of an autobiography.
Such was the intense banter,
Amongst the different definitions of love,
Expressed in words by the authors,
Felt by a reader helplessly searching for answers.-
My day begins breathing in the raw scent of a new morning,
The grass still scintillating with a cushion of dew,
I get ready with the sky transitioning amongst hues,
Painting a new canvas for us to behold,
Perched atop the mighty cliff I witness,
The pride gleaming with the golden tinge of a new sun,
I quench my thirst at the innards of the mahogany woods,
And listen to the river perform the sundance,
Soaring through the lively meadows,
I chorus along with the singing dandelions in unison,
Tearing through the wind I reach the bustling city,
Peering in search of morsels tossed away by kind people,
I enjoy the company of friends on the way back,
Sharing stories from lands afar,
I retire to my cozy nest when the horizon turns crimson,
Where a miracle filters the known from unknown,
Thus ends a page in my journey of life,
A testament to fellow beings with wings.-
Brooding about the events of the day,
Struck down by the ordeals at bay,
I came out to sit all alone in the balcony,
But got greeted by the unconditional warmth of a company.
I saw her nurturing the flickering flame,
Cushioning the candle from the wind,
I heard her negotiating with serene Selena,
Making the moon light up the brightest in night sky,
I saw her play hide and seek with intermittent innocence,
Pointing the fireflies to the right direction.
Such is the grace of a selfless soul,
Always aiding for an ease,
That day I got reunited with a friend,
And I endured the whole night with her, the dark.-
One summer day of May we went to the sea,
And witnessed the birth of a new day,
Set forth from the rise at the horizon,
The sun poured into the palette of grace.
Greeted by a unanimous ultramarine,
We talked about friendship.
Faded into the capricious cobalt,
We discussed about impermanence.
Held together by the mellifluous magenta,
We overcame vulnerability.
Transitioned into a composed crimson,
We learned the art of serenity.
Touched by a vivid vermillion,
We got inspired to persevere.
Merged with tenacious tangerine,
We understood the importance of love.
Such were the layers of the dawn,
Interwoven with the events of a day,
But only now I could see,
I was describing treasure in a human.-
That night I saw a tree in the shadows,
Emanating from beneath the layers,
It seemed to be laden with juicy fruits,
And a grace of greenery on the tall.
I walked towards in desperation,
Aiming for the golden yield,
But all I could grab was none,
Except for a crud of ash on my arm.
I startled back with the tick of the clock,
Overlooking the mirror on the wall,
Reflection defied the smirking reality,
As time was going in reverse fantasy.
Thus was my time spent amongst memories,
Finely assorted with delight and haunt,
The reason time always shows forward,
Is 'cause past couldn't be where our lives reside.-
I fondly visit that night of sombre summer,
When I retired to the study by the window,
The breeze raked through my unkempt hair,
And the moon cloaked behind the haze.
I sat there all giddy-eyed,
And my anxiety fiddled with my pen,
Just when a firefly charmed her way in the dark,
Inviting my monotony to an amusement of colors.
Submitting to fate, I chased that little marvel of delight,
She led me through the canopy of black,
Found me a shelter when the rain made me feel cold,
And stood by me when I slipped down the rabbit hole.
Today I stand in this state of old and gray,
Clenching a snowflake melting in my hand,
Reminiscing the chapter I'm glad I didn't skip,
Of my book 'Memories of Forever'.-
An aesthetic autumn hue on the leaves,
A laze of sunshine in the wishful winter,
The songful spring celebration by the birds,
That spirited summer, bustling with the birth of new life,
And those treasured memories in muddy monsoon.
"Varieties of my mood, my seasons!" Smirked nature.
A gush of air raking through the hair by the sea,
The stream of tears cascading along the contours of skin,
Sweaty droplets of hardwork cheering in satisfaction,
A plateful for the hunger at the end of the day,
And such visits by thoughts, tempting to write.
"Only seasoning of my sane, salt..." Smiled, I.-