ALONG CAME YOU!

When fire and ice spoke in unison and warned me of a storm so full,

When purple grapes turned sweeter and sweeter and bees fought harder for honey and the moon,

When angry birds grew tired of doom and sang lullabies, I'd written for you.

Along came you.

I saw trees burning from down below,

And seasons wailing or crying in hope ,

of something that would shake those mighty shores.

And let autumn play its windy chores.

When peace was but two cards I'd hold.

Along came you.

There were those stars you'd write about and 

the all the dirt you would turn to gold,

I'd known angels could fly and that skies could turn dirty mellow.

That dragons could smile and winds could taste just like dew.

Along came you.

You named our little boy 'Khaish',

And I loved him for you and I.

You forgot his name ,

And told me to think of a time Khaish wouldn't want to be in.

Resistance was touch ,

And you were a fraction of those dreams.

I would search for Khaish and you'd read me the first line of your story.

I'd look for bulbs that were red but they would never seem to bloom.

So I wrote your name.

And I wrote it again.

Along came things you could never partake in.

Along came your words.

And set me free.

But was it only the next morning I  realized,

You were everything but a dream.

I tried to pull those thoughts together,

to carve you out of nothing.

I would change my mind a little too much,

for Khaish would tell me to let it rest.

That some bulbs aren't meant to bloom,

Like those stories you loved too much to complete.

I'd coddle him to bed on those sleepless nights,

And wonder what ink you use - to write.

I'd wrestle with you in my own personal war,

between the 'reality' and what Khaish would have me doubt.

I'd keep pictures of you in strange places ,

I'd cling to Decembers and the words you'd scrawl from a million miles away.

"Hello", you'd say, 

"You must be different!"

I'd wonder if I was a part of your soul in another lifetime.

For that was the only explanation to your pull ,even when you'd let me go.

Specially then.

Probably Khaish knows.

For he was your very first child.

The Magic of your words.

Someone I know you couldn't let go.

And so the wait for when you come back for him.

And take from me, what you know to be already yours.

Already Ours.

The Finale.

Fancying the chords that stuck her soul she sat admist darkness and a handful of sunshine,
The little she wanted to suffice her soul with.

Dragons and hungry balloons .
She caressed one and played with the other,
And wondered how much it costs to be the first one to read the thunder.

She walked for miles and miles and Stopped short at a wild fire.
She hung her gloves and took its shelter,
Knowing how much its going to carve the rest of her hunger.

The idea of a better symphony led her out    of the door next morning.
She woke up to a song that was blazed with the irony. 

She rode the horse and kissed a thousand words goodbye. 
And dreamt of the King of the long forgotten island. 

He stands still. He's every where.
Yet he's no where to be found.

Hushing and gushing about his new life ,
The mad king forgot he owed her a pound. 
She watched perplexed and raised a massive toast.
To the only man who lived on that boat.

Is that human or am I differently designed?
I seem to feel a strange pause in the middle of my heart.
It stops and its starts to haunt me again, later at night.  
When the stars keep me company sympathetic  for the night before tonight.

And the one before tonight. 

This is in no particular order , she told  herself.
There's a star that shines tonight .
Moderately pacifying.

I wasn't here to invite your soul.
But I think I have,  regardless .

The tiny blur wants to fade away.
But she holds it a little too strong to let go.
She holds it in the safest place she knows.

The mirror, she said, belongs to me. 
Just  like you. 

That said , she shut  the door and ran away .
Far from the tranquility of silence  .
And everything that comes with a warning of hope.

Beyond you ,Beyond me.

An endless river that sings a song.
You wonder what she wants to say but ,no, she doesn't like to wait.
She hops and hops and suddenly she stops.
She likes to water those tiny grapes.
She could see a kite above.
And that is all she could possibly chase

Tired of the music, she smiles.
And yet again she holds your soul into her tiny hands.
She puts you inside a box.
And wraps you carefully,
with all she's got

You cant breathe, you say.

So she turns you over and makes a candle of you.
She lights you on fire and watches you burn.
She holds you as she waltz's around.
Sings to you one final
time.
Lie down with me, she says.

You are dying ,you say.

She puts you out of your misery,
but she cant lift you anymore.
You've burnt her tiny hands ,you see.
So she caresses you softly as she wraps you around her.
Over and over and over again, till you immerse into her.
You are me and I am you now, you say.
I hope you are doing okay? she smiles
It feels warm, you say.

She bathes in the moonlight.
So you can feel it sink into you.
So it can heal your wounds.
You feel like a dream, she says, as she touches herself.
You smile like I smile, you say.


Do you think you can forgive me?, she says.
You stare at her in the reflection of the moon.
But you don't talk back.
You are too deep.
Way inside.
You cant hear her anymore.

I can feel you breathing out of me,she says,
as she feels you crawling through to her spine.
You sigh for words don't matter anymore,
hoping she 'd feel the grasp.
She's lost in the paradise of her favorite dream.
She likes herself more than she ever did before.
She can feel you rising and falling every time she breathes.

Easy.. Easy, she says.
Do you want to take over completely?

You cant hear her anymore. you say.
I cant hear you either, she says.
In spite of the irony.

You shout harder from inside of her and she can feel you tremble,
but she cant hear you anymore, no.
She calls for you as you immerse deeper and deeper into her soul.
Say something ,she says.
Anything,she says.

You cry  for clarity as the frenzy grows on to you.
She cries in tender pain with the thought of suffocating you.

She looks at the moon for help.
And all she can see is a wonderful halo burning around its vanity.
Perhaps you laugh at the fate of our souls?
Perhaps you  know which one of us would give up?
Perhaps you know how it ends?
Perhaps you care?
Perhaps you don't?
She watches the halo grow brighter, as the music fades away. 

A Beautiful Lie.

Fire continues to ruin the crops,  
as she sits by the farms,
restless and dazed.
Devoid of what comes with feelings.
Those things, she says, cannot touch her,
for she is on a higher ground.
The farm watches the crops turn a shade brighter.
Its red and she likes that colour.

"Kill the mud.. kill the mud,
fire fire," she says.
Running up and down and about she sees ants that want to live.
What a waste of breath ,darlings, she says.
The leader of the ants isn't pleased to see her but what with all the fire,
she is a beautiful creation of the lord almighty,
or so they'd like to believe.

Harder and harder and harder, she laughs,
and in her spirit the silence of the flames.
She turns around to see the disaster ,up close and personal.
With a hard earned sigh she thanks the god of ironies,
For lighting the world on fire.
(And letting her watch from the very first seat.)

Her face seems slightly torched.
The kinda orange you don't want to eat.
Turns brown and then purple it gets,
And every shade the darker, the more tired its owner seems ,
with the weight of all she had seen.

Lie down, 
No. Deeper, she says.
While the fire soaks her skin, she smiles.
It hurts . Why! A wonderful feeling.