Books of teachings are now being weaponized for violence rather than being used to spread love which it was meant for...

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There are only 2 kinds of people in the World :
Healed and Unhealed.

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What if the people leaving behind an imprint in the world were living their last life, people causing chaos living their fifth life and the innocent ones are brand new on this Earth?!

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It's ironic how every little girl's dream shouldn't have had been to learn combat
And how they shouldn't have had to be taught to beware of a certain gaze
How normal it would've been if she didn't have to carry a weapon for defending herself
How normal it would've been if she didn't have to fear, if she could just go about her way.

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We are fighting the same of kinds of battles,
They are just ... Modern.

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Such a beautiful sight it is
When our child is safe with an adult
When a grown up is safe in a child's care
Without the need to ask for it
Or the urge to show pity.
Such a beautiful sight it is
How the anger, grief, angst, sorrow
Also becomes how I communicate with you
Not just the smiles and laughters
How I can see you and you can see me.

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The flock of birds flew away
High in the summer sky
With their mighty wings
And majestic hide.
A little canary watches them
And thinks to itself
I have my own sky
Where I glow my best.

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The Joy Trader

She was a joy trader,
Giving a basket of joy
In exchange of a tear.
For she had none
To grieve for her misery
But to hold them dear.
All she could do was smile
As bright as day
A smile never in her eyes.
It was her gift
To make people happy
A curse in her paradise.

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CALM

In the peaks I want to retreat
In their solitude, a peaceful slumber I seek
Although high and mighty, I feel secure in their embrace
Like a mother watching over her child
I can feel, I can breathe in the calm washing over me
Take me to your chest and let me sleep
In the cradle of your palms
Let my soul seep through and become one with you.

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Un-Named
Another day on this alien place,
Another day in this unknown vessel,
Another day with unwanted experiences,
As I long to free my essence.
Of the burden of this life,
Sometimes in rose-coloured glasses
I see the other world fading away
While my feet get tangled in a red lace.
Grounding me firm-footed,
While I wish to mix with the air,
With the clouds and the blank space,
Be the dust, un-named in my lair....

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