Writing about me,
words aren’t enough,
Ink dries out.
To write about you,
Two words, it’s over,
Trust issues!
Things changed.
Misjudged problem.
Tag: hope
Menacing ritual.
Another one have arrived,
What new did it bring.Nothing, hardly my thoughts,
But to make me look old.
Past, nowhere in my sight.
right by my foot came future
And this moment in my hand,
No trace where I lost it.
Wish them again,like before,
With all success,they could get.
Only to know, my wish undone,
No one did the same to me.
Unfathomable head.
The universe being me,
My thoughts, the stars in it.
Hard is it, to find,
Where it began,
Where it ends.
To find your way through,
Fly straight.
My thoughts, have no direction.
Flawed meaning.
When I called you,
Perfect.
You corrected me,
You weren’t.
Now that you call yourself,
Flawless,
Where did I go wrong.
Life at peak.
It is normal,
To feel sleepy,
When the whole world,
Is asleep.
But to feel awake,
That is when you know,
You are alive.
Missing lie
It isn’t a while ago,
That I felt.
It isn’t a while ago,
That I understood.
We lost a lie somewhere,
In my world.
It wasn’t peace.
It was trust.
The biggest lie.
Hardly great!
It was enough,
The way it ended,
Made my day.
Just the moment,
That single look,
That would last a lifetime.
Your dark hair,
Darker than night itself,
Dancing to the tune of the wind.
Between those eyes,
bright as day itself,
I found it glancing at me.
Rising heartbeat,
And shivering fingers,
Brought a smile,
Without me knowing.
If there is hope, rarely one,
I would wait,
For one more look,
And it would be enough.
Calling by the right name
It is really interesting to know that,
when I was born people used to call me a baby.
As I started to grow they referred to me as a baby boy.
When I fought myself into the adulthood they called me a man.
And when I grew old, they teased me as an old man.
Now, when I die they would refer my body as ‘it’.
“We have to bury it” they said.
Funny, how people start to change their perspective from time to time.
Calling everything by it’s right name.
His last note
He dropped his pen and looked around.
The room was empty as it always had been. He smiled to himself and rubbed his wrinkled chin. His eyes swelled up but no time to rub them off.
The sun had set and the wind had died. The room was empty as it always had been.
Only note he left on the lonely table read:
I was here.
Finding the Alchemist 