Tainted fate was broadcasted this afternoon,
and the life of which I had called mine
was pasted into the dreary news.
Quoted as a mundane, overused headline.
But I saw it for what it is within;
naked and sunken where bones meet skin,
a sullen little echo of mine.
Steering down memory lane,
grazing fingertips over the wind of essence.
Liberation courses through my veins.
But I beheld a sudden strain upon my adolescence.
Rebirthed into something strange
with an unfamiliar name and a staggering age,
reality brought me back to the harsh presence.
Then upon cruising, I met a crossroad;
a junction forking out into two pavements.
I stared at the uncertain threshold
and defined the pair as Sorrow and Resentment.
I sat mellowly in the inbetween,
unsure of which path to intervene,
so I carved a new road and named it Acceptance.
she wakes as a cello
in the morning not
high strung but
mellowly tuned
i run one of
my fingers
feeling her
f hole as
the air makes
her shapely
boxed body
quiver in
sound and
breath as
she breathes
vibrating strings
just plucked
slightly an open
g seizes the beat
of my heart as
it ceases to be
modulating to c
as i tightly wrap
her for a trip
I was alone and broken
Inside my room and the moon light was shining over me
I was a disconsolate young girl
With dark long hair
Honey-like eyes
Which are always ready to stare
There was a little space inside my heart
That was biting smoothly for the one it cared
I was always dreaming about a man I like
Till you came and make me feel like
Right now, exactly now I want to be with one
Who takes my hand and washes away all those tears
Couse I can only be in love
When those wishes come true
Although they are a bit ambitious
They totally make me calm
And I'm just speechless
While you are next to me
Your hands Creep as a snake around my body
Your eyes hypnotize mine and make them warm
After a while I fall asleep in your arm
You are whispering my name slowly
I'm swinging in your hug mellowly
In my dreams I see you once more
As I wear a white silk dress and red rose next to my ears
Something miraculously pops out in my mind that time
Which confessed you are the answer of my prayers for a long time.
There are few more days for November to depart;
wouldn't it be very sad to miss the beautiful colors
of a glorious month displaying them with graceful elegance?
Many poets and painters will remember them in their art.
Walking past hills with trees of auburn beauty that suspend breath,
nothing I've seen matches the serenity of an idyllic landscape
that another Monet would love to paint on a canvass near this lake;
sing lonely robin and watch him at work until late sunset.
Fascinating and mellowly November, your priceless gift is gladly accepted by me...
while wild flowers seem enamored with bees that seek pollen to make honey,
and they remind me of the softness and the sweetness of her strawberry lips;
last Fall we ran on these wind-swept fields, now alone this unhappy soul drifts.
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