~Bliss

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Dear sky


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Dipping my legs by the sunset ablaze ocean glowing orange in the light,
I'm stunned by the warmth when you're the light.

Felt the serenity run excitedly down my nerves,
It's an irony, but so are you, as you fire the light.

The cold is a little more bearable at nights very harsh,
You always brightly shine when I desire the light.

Troubled waters are journeys I wearily yet hopefully tread for you
Always come up like the sun whenever I desire the light.

Distances travelled shall count up to nil at the end
If I don't find you waiting after every hurdle there, as the light.

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And I wonder if maybe that's where it all went wrong.

When I brought you sunshine in gold
But you wished for rain in teal.

When I painted the sunset vermillion
But you wanted an ebony night.

When I bloomed a garden of petunias and lilacs
In the aridity of a deserted, forsaken soil,
But you burned them down to ashes
For your forest of mahogany where it couldn't
Even bear the dewiness of the tears I wept.

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A CASTLE OF GLASS

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Not us

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A hazy sight, with a hazier mind,
A tumultuous cacophony hover on me.
Senses at the brink of sanity, the fine line
Tettering astride in the no man's land.
Am I sane? Or am I not? What defines?

A lucid dream, chasing a mirage in a mirror maze
What's the truth hidden in the shards of glass?
Is it the poison smeared at each sharp end meant to prick,
Or maybe it's in the pain when they pierce the skin?
If it scars deep, let my hate for lies grow a bit more please.

My breathe's stuck, maybe there's no air, or maybe too much,
My heart's wrenching, maybe there's no love, or too much,
I wore the garland of thorns you offered gladly, as you weaved it.
Like a rose, you said, I smiled. But thorns don't prick the rose.
I can't feel now, maybe there's no pain, or maybe it's too much.

Now here I stay, in the ruins of the runes
That bewitched me, I thrive in it's dying sparks
I'm living.. No, breathing, existing, surviving
Finding solace in the peace of my entity
Even if in the drumming heart of chaos, it is.

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How painful it is
To bear the weight
Of unspoken words
Which we wished to say
But finally decided to keep
Locked in a bejeweled trunk
In hopes of better time,
Of words that once
Gladly comforted us
But now shards of glass
Piercing the soul,
Of words as promises
That once gave solace
But now pricked every inch
Of this shroud of skin,
Of words that can make
And also break a person,
But still don't know how
To use them in soft kindness
And harsh words with superiority
Only shall have their ego suffice.

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My ears turn deaf
And my walls, audience.
An acoustic reverberation,
Breathing essence of atrocities
And a living corpse of my conscience.
I find it notoriously hard to distinctify
The truth's shadow and desires' silhoutte.
What goes beyond the barrier of this shroud
That covers my nerves from the sensations?
And I sit here trying to decipher the echoes
That travel about, is it the screaming silence
Or is it the treble of my silent screaming?

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