The Question of the Question

Times are forward, no more too slow,
The age of doubt passed, love prescribed to flow,
A seed of dream at heart, a wish secret to know,
An itch to ask you tonight, which path to finally follow?

Today you see me as who? I wonder in my sleep,
The answer is all but lost, yes normally too it's deep,
On the face but it's slight known, by all who see this rise,
That one sees one as one only, paving "only one"'s demise.

Many say it's vain, one must be friend at first,
But folly it is to me, to hide my enamoured thirst,
For isn't it betraying you, to let merry times grow,
And a day all of sudden, on you my wretched heart throw?
It may leave me lonely, hiding my tears instead,
At last at least still, an act I would have shed.

A decision to be reached, a matter of heart and art,
Of life and love and sorrow, and glee and end and start,
A valley of hope on one side, to fall freely with cry,
A trench of despair awaiting, if tonight my love must die.

One Day at a Time

The winds get tough, after a moment mellow,
Sun shines too bright, nowhere left to go,
A thin boundary pushed, between lush green and desert,
You know not when you crossed, you realize with a start.

You can live the dream, of that far-away past,
Or you can live the fantasy, of a time yet to last,
But either way you go, your heart will fill with shame,
Because of your removal, from this potent game.

The good news is, it's never too late,
Wherever you stand, you can stare the gate,
And prepare to cross again, whence you once began,
Before fearing the world, you lost yourself and ran.

Till that time renews, there is nothing left to do,
But to follow your heart, or ignore if against you,
Keep your home in sight, and it will come to you,
Returning you to birth, when nothing you never knew.

Someone

Silent in her own way, with quaint dreams of dew,
Under skies of imagination, she loves her life anew,
Kind and strong as one can be, a new girl today I see,
A little time after so far apart, quite enthralled am me,
Nicked in scores, my heart encores, I wonder what to do,
Year end comes, I see her some, smart and graceful too,
A friend in need, a friend indeed, she sways me fleetingly true.

Short Poem

Inside me a me, somewhere in dark cries,
Wrapped in an oval corner, believing all the lies,
Deaf and loud, screeching without halt,
With unend flows, cheap rivers of salt.

The Truth Inside

Barely I live, moment to moment,
It is the only way.
That, and that hope will blossom today,
Only that makes bearable this torment.

The birds have flown, with their scales and wings,
How long, how long, has the world steady been?
Since start till end, know if you are keen,
Everything is honey, only more levelled by stings.

Blind or wise, matters nonetheless,
Time brings still tide and drought.
Doesn't truly matter which disipline you have fought,
Only that you have, and you are flawless.

The Lonely Eagle

He fell to earth one day, whence no one knew,
Surrounded by laughter, he sad inside grew,
Never knowing how to love, for all was received free,
In the habit of getting all, his beliefs being decree.

He saw a dove one day, she was not alone,
Still he flew a bit with her, before she was forever gone,
Failing and fluttering, inching past each day,
Straight above stormy sea, where a pale sad face lay.

He flew into the sea, the only soul around,
Stayed for some years, without sight and sound,
One day he could fly again, as he emerged in a gale,
Leaving all desires, after all this time become stale.

Gone long was his dream's dove,
It didn't matter, for now he knew love,
The sky and sea, mirrored his unveiled face,
The king of birds, had begun his own race.

On Suicide

We all form, from seed to a tree,
At the end, from roots to become free,
Death is only natural, nothing of shame,
When life has run its course, as nature has set its aim.

Alas! Some saplings break premature in the wind,
Maybe they're weak, maybe a tough spot muzzles the mind,
Whatever be the whys, they end up doing sinned,
The trees around him lament, having lost one unique of their kind.

Only if he had the supports, to face the gale and keep on go,
What exactly did he need to live? No one now will ever know,
The one gone is forever gone, the ones left now rapidly sink,
Searching frantic for his shadows, on life and death's esoteric brink.

We all have someone beneath what is seen,
To see it some friends should always be keen,
Now be on your way, reader, if a withering plant you ever find,
Do give it the shoulder it needs, let this tale serve as remind.