Saturday, August 21, 2010

The coin in the air, a glint of luck,
neither here nor there, all fortunes still far away.
When the clock is stuck, a momentary flash,
on the edge of a blade, many a fortune hang.
Between the odds and the toss, lives revolve,
destiny is made, fortunes lost.
The uncertainty at hand, a master of it own,
building castles in the air, breaking faith and hopes.
there's a weeping wall inside us all,
there's an unforgiving thought lingering on.
There's a never ending road, winding all along,
there's a fiery soul on the road, walking all alone.

There's a wind rustling the trees on the road,
there's a sun waiting to sink in the sky.
There's a star waiting to shine in the dark,
there's a smile waiting to let itself a laugh.
There's an eye in the sky, watching it all,
there's a lie in the soul, killing us all.
There's a God waiting to end it all,
there's is man, wanting to live it all.
There's a dream, a glimpse of victory, a goal,
there's a tide waiting to rise, inside us all.

There's an undying thought, slithering on,
there's a prison in the mind, caging on.
There's a ray of hope, leaking through,
there's a glint of heavens, pouring through.
There's a mirror on the wall, staring back,
There's a scar in our hearts, bleeding us all,
there's a hope in tomorrow, calling us on.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

When the rain comes pouring through,
its the windows that shriek, pounded on and on,
the world reflected in puddles, the rainbows paints the day,
lost in the ways faraway, never wanting to return to dark days.

The scent of earth, wet and alive,
lost in the dance of the silver moon,
I keep forgetting the turns and crossroads,
paths and lanes once I walked with eyes closed.
the rain brings down a curtain, on what needs be forgotten,
on my back, on the grass, near the banks listening to the flow,
a hum in my head, of deeds done with pride,
they take to the wings, while the sky come pouring down.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Meet my words,
all alone, all for their own,
twisting in them memories, hoping nobody knows ,
never knowing what is to be, and what not be.

They take on shapes, of their happiness and sorrows,
written into themselves, into the hearts they borrow;
from the only place they know, blank pages on a page,
worlds with no before, worlds that change when the sheets turn over.
Feeling love, mocking hate, all the delusions ink can make,
meet the words, never truly born,
meet the worlds, caught in the lines of a page,
meet the worlds, living through lives they borrow.