Awaiting Her Transformation

Worn out from the
Remnants of natives,
Here I lie atop the
Graves of ancient civilisations,
Cultivating my heart for
A well-choreographed dance,
A birdsong making its way
Towards the doors of heaven,
And there I meet her, an
Exotic figurine, my stellar angel.
Passing through the realms of
Humanity day and night,
Beams of halo surrounding
The inner core of humanity,
To relieve the slaves from their
Eminent fate of bottomless pits,
And to revive the smiles of a forlorn
Youth deemed to be among the forgotten,
So, here I delve into her inner cave
Protected from the creeping eyes of others,
And I see, and I hear, and I touch,
As I explore her caged emotions,
So please, let them out, O stellar angel,
And let me absorb your enraging tears,
For as long as the heart beats and the lungs breathe,
I will protect you as you await your transformation.

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The Figure and Her

Like a perfect morning Spring breeze,
Like a rare galactic celestial star,
Like an iron heart beating for a lost twin,
Mesmerising momentarily in greater depth,
At a figure, she paints from the unknown,
A mixture of shadows, a masterpiece, a landscape,
For her to soar, like a bird,
For her to cherish, like a treasure,
For what life brings her, like this figure,
And so, it starts to dance to her smiles,
Stargazing at her beating heart that twinkles afar,
And in turn, she snows nearby landing on its cheeks,
Hearing its whispers as she silences the world,
For seven hours straight, the figure is her all,
For many more at night, she is its delicate soul,
Without her, the figure is emotionless,
The son of a concerned mother,
The brother of a proud sister,
The aging father of a little girl,
To it, she becomes the definition of home,
A place to hold onto and to always return,
A shelter to its heart, a constellation to its mind,
An ongoing novella depicting the merging of souls,
Linguistically phenomenal as both start to realise,
A preface of dubbed barriers to never lose a translation,
A chapter of tones to reach complete perception,
And yet, a different chapter consumes all emotions,
Like a breeze that comes and goes,
Like a shooting star nowhere to be found,
Like a heart that switches to a highborn,
The plot thickens and the twist befalls,
A heavenly meeting was decreed for a resolution,
Three decades holding onto nomadic tents,
Leaving few years thinking to never come back,
And yet, this figure, out of nowhere comes back,
Part of the desert, earthly merged for eternity,
For what reasoning this soul comprehends
Is beyond the logical laws of a galactic universe,
The figure and her are just a story of a great return.

The Fountain Dance

A harp string strung,
And the star shined,
Arabesque on stage,
All attention on her,
And I drift elsewhere.

Acoustic tone rings,
A many heartbeat,
A long-awaited voice,
Absent of any other,
Always hers I seek.

Aching for her soul,
Arms now upwards,
Ascending to infinity,
A heavenly fountain
Appearing from within.

An Open Book

Look through me for a second,
Open my eyes and dive into me,
Behind the blink the city lies,
Streetlights on steps to ascend,
Towards the mind and its heaven,
Or descend to a rainbow gathering,
Flutes and harps strung in peace,
Let the sky twinkle in your smiles,
My cosmos at your warm heart,
See for yourself my evolution,
And the rise of a civilisation,
A leader, thirty years in the making,
Who is mad about natural beauty,
A nature to search for pure souls.

Euphoria

A storyteller may peak into your proud eyes,
Each time a glimpse of glorious blissful day
Sends wild electric waves of joyous hope,
And he continues writing a historical novel,
Where you become his ecstatic beating heart,
Yet, he may forget the exact sequence of time,
Falter not, my dearest soul, for he is in a race,
So, go on and carry the Pearl into the heavens,
But await his call as he resurfaces in euphoria.

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.