Things beautiful are strange and fitful a lot;
Delicate, changing and entangled in a knot-
Now bright and the next instant rather dull;
Seeming complete just before being all null
The feel of alure and appeal that made it so
Is lost, or drains out just in a moment's go!
Aversion erodes what was so lovely and dear,
While evasion moves the inner straggling fear
To ruffle and void the crude, puzzling delight
Of freeing from the spell and its fanciful flight,
At once by choice and coerced, in potent power.
The drives to glorify, and make it immortal, lower
Escape into the virtual domain may find the glot
For the replica of the real with the missing plot;
Thus to hold on to times ever after,with instress
Using words, colours, chisel or muse to express
And the pleasing charm of the affected percept
Is rendered into a hypnotic,fallacious concept.
It is very strange
To be a human.
To percept a human.
To exist.
sparrows spare...ow's...
with their
wing-s-eyes for full-light...
and...
bird brain differ-andt-says...
that their spe-sees well
past human percept-shuns...
so that...
their ups-downs and spirals spun...
show
wings without any attend-shuns...
stan sand
Language of love speaks when no language does;
Utters words caged by the heart;
Express love to loved ones.
The language of truth and trust.
It can be percept by the blinds-
Perceive by the deaf and articulate by the dumbs.
The special language of His creatures:
Dwells in mother earth, dwells in human nature.
Nightmares will be the fear, hatred will be the hate,
But the ears bends down, the tail wags on-
When one understandingly speaks with love.
One who has anger kept
Has never ever he leapt
Beyond boundary and wept
For his misfortune slept
Because of his wrong concept
As Ashwathama’s concept.
Nobody here is ever unwept;
So don’t always backswept
By certain emotions inept
Like Anger and have percept
Which lead you be a nympholept.
Be the person who has crept
For perfection – void of windswept –
Attained salvation and stepped
Into ever-increasing peace precept.
Those who avoided it adept
To tell that peace in mind unswept;
Anger, A Vice not Virtue except
For those who has clear concept.
What if things are not what they seems,
What if visions are incomprehensible dreams?
You stare at the light source, through trio-finger matrix
And confront radiant beams appearing as crucifix.
You breathe deep within, expecting to locate,
The apparitions - to reveal, with abated breath,
In the grip of stupor, you move to trance,
Curse upon you, dissolves, with mother protector’s stance.
You search for an ark to shelter you from the waves,
With time to arrive, that predictable percept craves,
You question, the author of the spectacle, waiting unfurl,
How to avert the catastrophe and protect the world,
For He is the one who shields the nave,
And prevents the eye from envision of your grave.
ARMAGEDDON!
Defining the human character avers that yet we may be different our likelihood
remnants the same.
Figments of yesterday lingers.
Never a will lost but a being found.
The sylph sleeps with soul.
Aphorism is percept.
To live by doctrine and principle, is the axiom brought forth.
Never to fragment or pierce the heart but to heal a broken path of truth is
veracity unto God.
The spirit sleeps within the soul.
Proverbial, as the greater determination, humankind solidifies their crossing.
A peak will transect and transform into a jet stream.
The clouds are aura overhead.
A revelation discourse will soon become the ration.
Spirit is shown.
Once the rage comes, the veils will be removed.
In the distant will stand an almighty presence.
Seen by the eyes of one, the universe will be possess by its people.
Adherence will be the commandment.
The badness man (or woman might child) will remain standing.
I will step to the cause.
The soul is engrossed.
____________________________|
PENNED ON JULY 21, 2014!
A picture I'll never forget
In my heart her smile is still a lasting bless
And I can't help but think of those days
When we walked along the calico ways.
The clock, the gong and my dismay
Ticking towards the sorriest days,
And I can't stop the time running away
She will be gone when I'll realize
That am walking alone along the wispy ways.
This is the picture I only have
In my eyes her dreams are still aspiring with tears
And I can't percept but think of those promises
When we held eachother along the floral rays.
The vision, the esthesis and my presages
Reflecting towards the bluest days,
And I can't stop perceiving the reality wraiths
She will be gone when I'll intimate
That am living up to her dreams alone along the mortal rays.
That was the picture I will live with
It will remind me of the time we had
I will see and I'll frame this
So that I can walk to live up to her dreams.
Perception is all.
With hands empty and love gone to the sword.
Lonely: sick at heart, body weak and mind in numbing sleep.
Red warning signs I ignored all the way,
cause I dared to believe.
Lion heart turned to serpents
in the darkness of the past.
Shaded lenses I now look through,
were once innocently clear.
Night was day
and half was most of the way:
to your heart,
to love -
it's remnants jealously guarded behind pains last gasp.
Bright though my hope did shine,
angers blaze I was against every time.
I want to soar to the sun -
that is unending,
love unhidden by doubt clouds.
See!
Don't just look!
at the bruised effigy that was the bond of hearts.
Messages of hope and peace
that were written in skies glory
now seem unvarnished folly.
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