Healing a Portrait

You are the halo of a starry night,
They are the ashes of a cigarette,
In dark hours you shimmer in light,
As they shadow a sunrise into sunset.

Heal a wound for a future fight,
Ascend above them without a regret,
Show a sickened society who is right,
And the wrong they will surely forget.

Hope within me you would always ignite,
So, falter not and join me to get,
A family’s portrait, a city’s highlight,
A royal welcome to Romeo’s Juliet.

So do not worry, everything’ll be alright.

Emotions in a Bedridden Society

Emotions in a bedridden society,
Inhibited tongue deemed motionless,
And if I incapacitated myself lifeless,
Under virtual euphoric white blanket,
Would you notice emotions masked?

Home housed in remote realms,
Gardening personal enlightenment,
Paths created for public invitations,
Welcome to my utopic society, so,
Do you see a resonance of despair?

The gardening granted stability,
In the scarred errs of society,
Healing a new day, a new beginning,
Thorn-covered blanket in a tumble dry,
Just emotions in a bedridden society.

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.