A Heart’s Ink

Your heart’s ink drew a vast ocean,
Fierce waves crashing with each beat,
And I know that the others will drown,
But with you, I can forever breathe,
Looking at your face, at your pure eyes,
Sheltered beneath your concealed curves,
The elegance of your hidden beauty,
Unbeknown to you, raw feelings grow,
A constellation reflecting on your waters,
Twinkling your surroundings with glitters,
For a chance to explore your dreams,
Borrowing your heart’s ink,
To draw you a portrait,
So you may get to know me more.

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.

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.

Beauty of Running

I free a muscle to swell my eyes,
A twinkle by the distant horizon,
Only time will tell me its story,
Dreamers sitting by waters of sapphire,
Clap for all of us and move forward,
An old lady’s smile is all what it takes
As the twinkle nears my running feet,
And I speed to grab its gleaming lights,
And become the distant horizon that
Beautifully swelled my carefree eyes.