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Poem
If truth had a color,
when twilight bleeds 
burgundy rivers,
you’ll find these garnet 
eyes pleading
to be heard through 
poetic sunsets. 
For I’ve been swirling 
and twirling
through nomadic illusions,
like a goddess of 
thunder with a tiger spirit,
never letting go of 
the history of hurt,
left by the unkind mind 
of inhumane humankind-
which throbs deeper 
than the sharpest thorns 
in peacock feathers, 
that I’ve danced to -
in flawless frequencies
amongst abstracts 
of an architect.

If truth had a tune,
It would be too ferocious 
to be unraveled,
the kind of fire that 
dares to burn, 
the hellish tombs of terror,
constantly pushing 
every contrasting dream 
to be feasted upon 
satan’s last supper,
painting every salvage sunrise,
with strokes of petrichor scent
dipped in astral rain-dreams.
As I’ve been the 
queen of the night,
longing to soar 
across the horizon
where unconfined 
eagles and golden dragonflies, 
shall tranquilize 
this publicized heart caged
as a motionless mannequin 
in a glass mansion.

If truth was covered in furry skin,
to glaze skeletons veiled 
beneath crooning clouds,
it would be the beginning 
of an unstoppable ending,
of an immeasurable 
brokenness resting as 
irreversible numbness.
As I’ve seen storms 
brewing bruises 
through seas of sorrow,
amidst illusory lakes 
of rose quartz,
streaming down 
emerald hills,
hiding the grotesque
kingdom of fragmented gates.

But what if truth
never was a matter,
as it’s all but mere myth 
floating along golden ripples
in a pool of sentimental stars. 
What if truth was 
once a maiden in distress?
What if truth was 
once a shadow in search of light?
What if truth was a fool 
hoping to be dressed 
in dancing dandelions?
what if truth is what
has got this onyx heart on fire? 
Perhaps, truth lays in 
the arms of a clock,
waiting for it’s turn 
to make time stop,
when lovers destined to meet,
rebuild chess of life in ruins,
as footsteps on 
glistening glaciers 
reveal the secrets 
left by snow angels 
leading us back to 
an unbreakable moon affair.
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