Crossing over is never easy,
It requires you to leave your past behind,
Leaving your peace, friends and family,
For a greater purpose to find
Yourself again, in a complete different parameter
Where words and actions are defined
By the sole intention,
Which charts an unfamiliar territory.
A path that once trod on
Knows one boundary:
To never look back,
And to keep moving on where our lack
Becomes his masterpiece of His destiny.
Crossing over is never easy,
Train switches lanes,
And the carriage jerks
In unforgiving in fashion,
Throwing me apart, berserk.
Hands tossed in the air
As I leapt as if I was on a coaster
Or freshly browned bread jumping outta toaster
Creep around the corner,
Whisper my name.
I look for her,
And let life find its aim.
A shot is fired,
And sparks flutter festively
There she stood, inspired
By a catching spree,
Reconnecting with that semblance
Of a past lover,
Hypnotized in a trance
Amidst lines and laughter.
Our lenses met,
And shutters hanging on to this ending image,
A vitalizing vignette
Captured in a rolling rampage.
This is the future state of society.
We no longer have a voice.
We are rigid and innovation breeds no creativity.
Among conformity toils
An inexplicable longevity.
The will to rebel soon diminishes,
As the chains of ensnarement flourishes.
Follow the hand of the leader,
Who wields the power
Of the State,
Just as the remaining pawns field the gates.
In an unrelenting fate,
Turbid turmoil brews on the eleventh hour.
The lonely Moon.
She floated mysteriously in the skies,
Camouflaged by dreary distilled clouds,
Waiting for her time to shine when she lies
Ominously under the deep blue-black drought.
What estrangement from her sparkling counterparts she now felt,
The ones she eloped with,
As they once gleamed as a blinking boisterous belt,
And now they trepidate in a fearful tiff.
As constellations fall together in a soulful passionate love,
The moon glooms a solemn solitude.
She wishes for a bath
Of showering blessings but is instead eclipsed in ingratitude.
A Conversation that Never Took Place
Charlotte Church asked Zee Roads,
“Can’t you discern between right and wrong?
It’s like the black and white zebras crossing a moat.”
Roads replied, “‘Course I can, but all along,
I enjoy living in the grey,”
Pointing to his granite colored eyes.
“I believe in law but I also believe in doing what I like - to play.
Living in the moment without considering the plight
Church retorted, “you’ll only live once, so you might
Never know that impending day of grievance.
Like in a game of poker, your chips are all out, in My side
Or yours, you could enjoy all the temporal pleasure here,
And suffer in respite,
Or your suffering could bear an eternal fruit of a joyous fear.”
Granite eyed Zebra, sighed,
“Precisely, if I don’t live how I want to now,
I’ll never have the same liberal life if I enter heaven’s gates. “
“Do you find a true liberation in that so called freedom trial?”
“Nope I just sink deeper and deeper in tirade.”
That needle oh so sharp,
Flicked by the surgeon,
Now enters a mouth so dark.
It enters unrelentingly, an inciting pain that burns.
Gums pierced like a blistering bullet,
Reaching the mouth of the heart.
A cloth envelopes my very being
And whispers, “close your eyes” in a voice so taut.
The drill hums a tune devastating
To any earthly known cult.
The rumbling rings crescendo into a deathly slice
Of any object in its path.
Before the tooth blinks twice,
The razor grunts a liquidating laugh,
Diminishing the tooth into a million pieces…
Numbness, the apparent last feeling,
As the veil is drawn,
A heightening inertia dawns upon drilling,
As the torturous pain is finally gone.
There the sun was,
Setting in front of our very eyes,
As we gazed the enveloping pink layer toss
Aside the mundane grey cotton so wise.
We threw away whate’er preconceived thoughts,
And was one with nature.
Segregating the blots,
An unforgettable night we’d endeavor.
As the night grew young,
I watched our love set like the sun.
Harsh, bitter winds growled violently
At the seemingly silent day.
I dragged my feet nonchalantly,
Oblivious to the darkening gray.
Thoughts drain every ounce
Of energy from my withering body.
I am reminded by the dreariness that sounds
Like a monotonous humming of a ship’s engine.
The world spins around me,
And I stand among the crumbling crowds.
Flashes of solitude vividly
Elucidate my incessant doubt
About a God that doesn’t seem to hear.
Abandoned and crushed,
I only move along, feeling that warm sensation of tears
Surreptitiously flowing from the eyes to cheeks flushed.
Oh, what love is there,
Other than the love of not loving,
With a heart so bare,
Religiously yearning and searching.