Tuesday, July 13, 2010

I want to live to tell the tale.


A survivor willing to cope,
Clinging to the shredded bits of dying hope,
I see snakes on apple trees,
On beds of roses - stinging bees,
Still holding on to the doubt,
Melting inside and out,
Scorching sun on the head,
Looking onto the moon instead,
Nowhere to find the times of smiles,
A speech of despair and of strange exiles.
Where do I find - love, peace and moments to cherish?
Where do I find –a stack of orchids and ways to flourish?
I feel I have come a way too long.
I feel that I have lost all my songs.
But I’m still clinging to the dying dime-
Of hope and love and of happy times.
For I don’t want to be known as the one who failed,
And I want to live to tell my survival tale.

Friday, July 9, 2010

How things change.

Alive and frantic;
Only watching rainbows through purple eyes.
In love with love and colors of heart.
The world being an oyster,
A hundred miles away from dismay.
No questions, all answers-
All friends no foe.
A destiny to be followed,
Like the hands of God upon us.

Things change.

Love is no longer red.
It's all pain, you see.
All rainbows gave away to the piercing sun.
Still black, still hollow.
No angel to pat on the back,
No friend to chat about the green days.
Fake wind chimes of happy times.

How things change!

Beware, there is a tomorrow.
Scarlet is not afar from black.
God loves all, not equally though.
People will become yours, again, and leave.
You see, its unstable,
The equation of life,
A talking parrot, the uphills of destiny,
You never know whether it's lying.
But if you have sunken in the pail of dark,
It's only good for you to know,

Things change.