A flower,

Open to the mother orb,

Petals open wide,

Leans towards lovers first kiss,

The aftermath of winter,

Sufferings gift.

Bliss.


A sparrow,

Wings stretched,

Sends greetings and goodbyes,

To the breath that sways the tides,

That lures two gentle beings,

Given the try at sanity in a realm of madness,


A gust,

An exhale of the sky,

Carries lovers aim towards one wretched mane of man,

At the breach of sparrow’s coda.


A word,

From soul to breath,

Unheard and unknown,

Is uttered from a place entirely alone.


A grin,

Fading under blood curdling echoes,

Reveals a past,

Ripping seems from grass,

Below the feet that trod upon a dream,

Lost before dreamt.

Pain oozes from the landscape’s wounds,

Haunting all existence with her cries.


A battle,

Fought and yet ceased,

A cut dug deep and never bandaged,

A desperate upturning of the lips,

Hangs in breath as the mangled capsule of a tortured mind drifts off into the backdrop of life’s temporary residence.


A wind,

Blowing so surely,

Acting as rain’s towel and spirit’s guide,

Takes him away from this extraordinarily mundane existence.


It is all so opaque.