Vaporizing Whispers
I'm torn in poetry ~
like a fractured syllable
scattered across
altars of glistening gold,
mirroring the maskless faces
of those, who once
sold their sanctity for sins.
Perhaps, there's a
cursed moonlight,
to which I'll tie
the champagne mists
of my last summer roses
and roar above
kyanite knights,
dressed in dried dandelions ~
whistling away dainty dreams
to distant shores,
ruffled with wistful vines
and wrinkled memories.
I've felt the silent hum of grief
slowly crawling in
my crying bones ~
each moment mourning
the demise of desires,
beneath a graveyard
of carefully sown seeds.
Knowing, this ancient storm
keeps swirling within me ~
will you still unfurl
an eden of elixirs,
where peace is a prayer
of Persephone,
glowing with guava glints?
Perhaps, life is a cage ~
and I have been enslaved
by those sleepless prisoners,
etching my spirit
in a treasure chest,
weighing down my scars
with moonstones,
where origami hearts
lay beneath their glare ~
overburdened by satanic shine...
"I miss you... my light
as I still remember,
the image of you fading in vapours,
yet, igniting a million crystalline charms ~
softly fluttering in burgundy blurs of bougainvillea,
soaring away from sullen sunflowers
and vanishing in watercolor seraph-dust...
But, you will find me
following your abstract tears
streaked in a silken mosaic ~
whispering velveteen sagas
of a tragedy untold...
where my tributaries of trust
trace your remorseful rivers, reeling with rage. "
But no longer,
do your demons dare
to ensnare
the eagle-eyed edges
of the introspective ink
within me ~
nor does my faith
hangs from a thread of fate ~
keeping me clenched,
to the mercy of your
monstrous manipulations,
misinterpreting my metaphors...
for, I have become
an esoteric enchantress,
drenched in whiskey clemency ~
breathing truths
in their purest hues.
As the light of all lights,
healing my heart chakra,
and reviving my cosmic kundalini,
has encased me in a platinum halo
where all elements of yoga ~
shelter spiritual souvenirs
in an eternal flame...
O' messengers of the divine,
carry me in apricot chariots
and ride this soul to
undiscovered dynasties,
where ribbons unravel
an unforseen fortune
of mystical manifestations ~
unleashing slaves of yesterday,
beyond the swarovski keystrokes
of tomorrow's twirling tulips...
"as the Lord exhales
henna stars ~
they swirl within me like leaflets,
rinsing every wound
with tulsi perfumes
and turmeric tides... "
Copyright ©
Hiya Sharma
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