An Unknown Dimension

As a whisperer to earths and heavens,
And a wanderer with an ancient heritage,
A nomad with a distant destined future,
Nearing to the point where everything halts,
Abrupt discovery of an unknown universe,
Through a dimension unbeknown to him,
As he starts to swim into her galactic eyes,
Fading into her warm hallowed curves,
Dancing to her rhythmic smiling beats,
Playing an instrument on her delicate skin,
A melodious musical just between the two,
Under celestial guidance to forever bloom,
And until that day arrives, he sends letters,
Of many hugs and kisses, and of infinite love.


A Night’s Treasure

Comfort the limbs of your heart,
And breathe for another revival,
Sometimes you might need to
Move your soul through the fog,
Because you know that ascension
Along the galactic celestial pathway
Will inevitably lead you to Heaven,
Yet, do not trespass laws of life,
For you will seldom find peace,
So, go and find serenity in nature,
For it will guide you to smile,
Like, how the moon whispers
Its glow on the river’s surface,
An endless supply of a night’s treasure.

To My Offspring

I just wrote an encrypted letter,
Layered with seven coding systems,
Then I rolled it for a forgotten era,
Picked up a green ribbon for a knot,
A clear glass bottle for transportation,
And a sea for an unknown itinerary,
Forty-six months without a reply,
Trapped in a dimensionless time,
Awaiting the whispers of an angel,
Voices of my ancestry start to tremble,
The return of our long-lost kingdom was
But a mirage in a servant’s mind,
The forest trees have burnt,
The valleys became arid wastelands,
Scorching heat and starless nights,
And all I could wish for was the comfort in
Lying over our forefathers’ graves,
Keeping an eye for the falcon’s shadow,
In hope for a living, for a resurrection,
For some powerful force to guide the
Bottled letter through the nine oceans,
But it is my time to bid you farewell, Offspring.

Split in Two

Outstretching a hand to a falling leaf,
A farewell ritual dancing with the breeze,
Purifying the land for its soft touches,
Commemorating our distant smiles,
And further, further it continues to leave,
So, I chose to quickly pick it up and hold it,
Sending all my warmth to its inner core,
Tending to its many complex arid cracks,
Some were so deep and beyond repair,
And even as close as I can be I am still –
Still unsure of my ability to intervene,
All I can do is allow Time to heal itself.

And whilst I dream about a surreal era,
Where cracks flawlessly diffuse forever,
Where I await mine to be softly tended,
Or at least to be acknowledged; at least,
Another decides to ride the whispers
Of a warm wind guiding a silent nomad,
Which sounds so elegantly majestic,
And yet, it leaves behind a heavy mirage,
Silence becomes my natural remedy,
Still unsure of my ability to intervene,
All I can do is allow Time to heal itself.

Unlocking My Screams

I am searching for a key,
One that can release me,
From unwanted thoughts,
Hammering my pure mind,
Onto the walls of agony,
Nails piercing the heart,
From all directions,
Leaving no room for confessions,
Or even a moment of solitude,
The solace of serene souls
Driven away as I bleed out,
But the key will guide me,
To wield heavenly whispers,
Forged in ancient constellations,
And if I were to reignite my diminishing smiles,
Then I need to unlock the screams of my soul,
I am fighting my way out of this,
With warm beats of young drums,
With melodious bangs of Eminem,
And even if volcanic eruptions were
Loud and fierce,
Damaging and deadly,
And even if earthly quakes were
Trembling and traumatic,
Thunderous and wild,
And even if oceanic tsunamis were
Humongous and crushing,
Treacherous and drowning,
I know I will crawl my way out of this,
Because I know I will never be alone.

Three Celestial Miracles

When the moon nourishes the heart of a forlorn sand,
And when the shooting star orbits around Polaris,
Where shall the nomadic sand go to seek seeds of guidance?
If not for the celestial bodies embedded in our skies,
The moon would dwell on uneven edges of the Earth,
But as a sand seeking a fruitful tomorrow,
I camp on mountainous constellations,
Listening to Polaris’ revelations,
How the everlasting silences of the shooting star
Will recreate the Big Bang,
How the infinite smiles of the moon
Will redirect the flow of Time,
And we may once more wonder where will the
Forlorn nomadic sand be if not for these three?