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Poem


"A mute tongue is a slave to silence."

I've danced with the devil.
now he's tired,
so he's left his demons behind -
everyday there's a new arrival.

Sometimes, I struggle to use my voice,
especially when I get too choked to converse,
most of the time I don't get a choice,
so I keep it all hidden within my heart's vault
and no one has the key to unlock it,
but you who lives inside -
promise me you will never confide my secrets.

It's easy to smile,
but when you forget
and my silhouette cannot help,
I become too fatigued to feel,
yet, I refuse to surrender and kneel,
but regret the questions I did not ask
and when there is no metaphor for meaning,
tears I refuse to reveal are released
upon virtual visions, where only strangers
can connect and construe.

My emotions are a cocktail of
confetti fireworks kindled from your lava.
You who claim to love me,
are you as patient as a sunflower without rain?
You hide behind a veiled vocabulary
and I ponder am I the only poem 
in your pearls of poetry

as when there are no words,
like Rumi's recital;
"I choose to love you in silence,
for in silence, there is no rejection."

Would it not be poetic, 
to take your last breath,
upon the day you were born?
Would you celebrate my birth or
feel sadness and continue to mourn?

I wish I never become a flower for a florist.
I hope you are never seen as a weed.
In my Gemini garden you are my twin,
different shades, but the same scent.

A tongue offers nothing
when a servant to solitude,
but a muse can never be mute,
such is the power of the mind,
as I find freedom in verse
even when life feels like a curse.

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