An Evolving Butterfly

Walking on a new land,
Hastening my pace,
To enter a garden,
The atmosphere evolves,
A new act of a scene in a play,
Warmth in its core,
Night befalls,
Clear sky,
Bright stars,
Majestic full moon,
And I find her –
Independent and surviving,
Colourful with a tint of struggle,
And so, I decide to halt,
Observing her wings blossom,
But it will take time,
Then I begin to move on,
Yet, I glimpse one last time,
Her passionate soul yearns to dance,
Taking my breaths away,
A free butterfly,
And so, I stay a bit longer,
Treasuring her presence,
And patiently awaiting the unknown future.

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An Insightful Smile

Just when I claimed authority on naming the hidden souls,
Few emerged from the deep caverns of our mischievous era,
And few ascended into the glorious stage of heavenly winds,
But naming without seeking insight is an act of treason,
Treason towards the nature’s call for a justifiable beauty,
Such that we may realise not to disturb a leaf’s descent,
Or not to curse the cloud’s choice to reduce visibility,
Now that I have discovered the need not to name you,
I am free to be one with nature to gain an insightful smile.

The Black Widow

What will you do when you have been –
Captured by a Black Widow,
Believing that she’s your Queen,
Living happily in her silky strings,
Except they are devouring you – ever – so – slowly,
And when you wake up from this magical dream:
(where your heart screams so loud
That you forget to listen to those close to you,
Those that cared for your angelic smile,
Those who will still await your return patiently)
And then you start to struggle your way out,
Not sure whether it is too late or not,
But you do it nonetheless,
To taste freedom once more,
And to her, you are but a useless pawn,
Trapped in her game –
Suddenly, one string snaps,
That is your remedy,
So you continue cutting all your connections with her,
And with each snap she furiously fits uncontrollably,
Because picturing you dissing her royalty is unbearable,
And you finally escape!
So what now?
Will you return to her throne and burn it down?
Or move on to find another royalty?
Or will you forge yourself into a throne-less King?

Sweet Royalty

Youthful beauty of an elevating butterfly
Writes a departing ode to the long past,
To her previous self, painting smiles to last,
And as she steps into the space among stars,
She realises the beauty in her freedom,
Blessed I am to see her evolutionary steps,
A natural phenomenon for the unique nobility,
A queen to all her close soul friends – to me,
And I ask for her throne, to stand firm next to,
As she tries to find her crown in colourful books.

Two Sides of the Same War

The space is spilling its own secrets,
But a void is trying to interrupt the
Communications, and a wooden door
Was opened, I heard it myself, stars
Running through it as if horses or
Soldiers or freedom fighters, or waves
Upon waves of nature’s way to show
A peaceful movement, and there –
There! A shooting star leading the
Resistance against all of the void,
And the horns of battle have been
Blown, and now, stars clash against
Blackness somewhere into the space,
The sky starts to be filled with fog,
Obscuring the battlefield, everything
Is now cloudy, but I can feel the stars
Are starting to diminish – our poor
Sky is gathering their dust and is
Now full of tears, we are getting
Drenched by their sorrow while
Both space and void sit back on
Their comfy chairs shaking hands
After all pawns gone: checkmated.

Emotional Explosion

Is it true that when you miss
Someone –
So much –
The atmosphere becomes
Full of emotions
P-prohibiting
The words to … form?

Is it also true that when you try to make an
Eye contact –
Just one
Simple, direct, warm
Eye contact
The racing emotional roller coaster
Leaves them
Wondering around … distracted?

Surely when you stand tall and firm
To walk
Less than a metre
Worth of steps the
Emotional barricade
Blocks all limbs from reaching
That person –
That moment is now … gone?

Would it not then leave you
Frustrated
Or maybe angry –
So angry
That the heart still
Aches –
Beats against all its walls
And requests for its
Freedom from … emotions?