Engraved Whispers

As old and magnificent as a banyan tree,
I sat by the unearthed curved roots,
Eastern celestial hand holding its leaves,
While the other is wrapped around its bark,
A dance ceremony to hear its whispers,
Symbiotically shared with soothing birdsongs,
Angelic beings roaming to find harmony,
However, a green leaf will soon depart,
And along with it will the hanging lanterns fade,
Except, if you truly saw the heart of the tree,
And the whispers it wrote on the walls of
Imperial palaces to root their thrones,
Then you will realise the hope in igniting
Your heart to beat melodiously once more,
Because there is no reason to pause a life,
Like birds, constantly ascending the heavens,
And so, I must relay its whispers to another,
But within it you shall always be engraved.

Into the Wild

The sweats of your beating heart
May escape your limbs
To welcome a naked night
With those who sculpted it
Into a gorgeous goddess.

Continue another mile,
And expand your universe
Into wondrous constellations,
Creating a path of ascension
Into your youthful soul.

Chance may lead you to a musical,
Where you stop to extend the drums,
To wildly gaze at an earthly energy,
There, a free soul holds your hands
To dance under the glowing moon.

Now you begin to realise,
The rhythmic symphony of life,
How it was all choreographed by
Your own limbs that bow
For its own goddess of a heart.

Split in Two

I
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.

II
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.

Dating a Succubus

She dresses in a lavender magical love potion,
Its fragrances deludes my dreamy raving mind,
Rings, necklaces, and bracelets glowing around,
Her black vivid eyes dart into my trembling heart,
Golden silky garments in many lines and curves,
The relic she now closes and my senses are back,
Fear strangles my palpitating heart into a knot,
Her snaky smirk hisses its tongue into my ears,
What she wants – what she asks is something
That goes against the morals of being a human,
She takes out her spidery black hands and goes
For my heart, for my throat, and my naïve eyes.

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.

The Two Lads

The old lad and the not-so-old young lad
Started to walk together by the beach,
One had a stick and the other sunglasses,
The night swallowed the rays of lightness,
And crows would appear from the horizon –
Extremely distant that the two lads found
It excruciatingly painful to stare at, and so,
One of them sat on the snow-covered
Deserted unscathed wooden bench that
Was genetically engineered to survive
This apocalyptic world of many shadows,
The old lad went to his pockets and
Spread his palms out where seeds laid
There: warm, still, and totally silent,
The not-so-old young lad was extremely
Observant and stood firm in a great pause,
What he saw was something magical
Where extinct small birds and huge
Pelicans would soar high encircling
Those seeds, but the darkness changes
The beach and a whistling sound alarms
The two lads where they immediately
Walked along the coast in calmness,
One had a stick and the other sunglasses,
The old lad and the not-so-old young lad.

Mirrors in my Inner Core

I shall find my mirroring windows,
And glance outside my inner core,
The balcony doors will be opened,
And I shall invite her to a nice play,
A performance about my dance,
Perfected by her long crimson dress,
Elegance mirrored in her glorious
Eyes that only stares at my dance,
Which was choreographed for her
Soft ruby lips and her winged hands,
Fly higher than the closing curtains,
Pluck out your lilies and my roses,
And disperse them around us like
A circle where we can dance under
This starry night reflected through
Those mirroring windows, and so,
Allow me to grab your adventurous
Body and commence another dance.