PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Reaching the top, dancing with the fuzzy clouds,

To show you, the pain fuelling my weak breathings,

Broken wings, anyone would be able to follow the trail,

Of ashes burning under the sun and crossing oceans,

Because the child in me never say stop,

Water or fire, are my elements,

The disguise of my pleasure ,

And if he has to listen a lies,

I forgot my address, my mobile and my emails,

I would rather take the blame,

And leave ashes , amnesia over the Atlantic,

I can see the titanic but your name never show,

I guess, you must have been in third classes,

Never stop me to reach for the stars,

I would be the filth and whisky,

Woman delirious to the prospect of freedom,

Dress lifting in the salty air,

Mans stumbling through big ideology of a new land,

And even the sea, would not crash my feeble wings,

Because in life you have to battle to win,

The rain will my mistress and the sun my prince,

My failure so to speak but this is the kid,

The phoenix died long ago,

On a summer day when dreams was allowed,

So please let me dreams a little while,

But if you stay and reach for the stars,

And talk to the tree and your little fluffy friend,

He would tell you the same thing, jumping from one tree,

To the next one, running away, to hollow space,

The shadow on the morning dew grass,

While you sip your coffee,

When I spend the night to cook a feast,

Because I never accept what could be the true,

And your words rest silence,

The trail of his ashes have already disintegrating,

Over the cold water, do you realise you pay the price,

When the sequin shall stop shine,

And glitter on your eyes melting,

is not so bad,

Because I know in my next life,

I be an animal, I shall be a squirrel,

Jumping from dead branches and defecated trees,

But under the rain or tornado,

I would never stop to dream, cos this is all we have…

You can claim the opposite in your throbbing,

When the phoenix reborn from his ashes,

And I see your regrets behind the windows,

I would take all my strength and head straight to the glass,’

Like a silly child I am! Cos in disguise, I am a Bengal tiger,

The ones who keep turning in circle in India,

And the shatter of the glass would be your jewel’s?

The tears rolling please “did you realised it too late?”

But I knew your gentle hands would pick me up,

And burn your flesh, as I would turn again to vestiges,

There is so much time a phoenix can reborn…

But it does means it does not hurt,

When you’re burning dreamless fingers,

Crawls outside the world to let the wind steals my glory tune,

Flew upon the dust I become for you.

And don’t feel so sorry for me,

Just pick the phone by the end of the day,

When the shadow falls I guess all shall have vanish,

Broken glasses, a single feather left on the kitchen table,

Don’t give up the sweet whisper, barely listening,

Will mourn to your ears but I guess it is more easy,

Seating and watch the squirrel,

Ageing but still appealing do circus acts,

Because the dust might have by then disappear crossing the ocean,

To rest and stardust, maybe the omen

Staining your folly nights,

Kid has no shame to show their last remaining moan,

Falling upon the sea,

The morning shall rise with his gospel,

To whisper, “sweet angel your lost!”

Dreams are so rare but I can see your faith hidden,

The same old lullaby holding hands with the same hopelessness,

the pill, hard to swallow to shoot me, while I was flying to you,

Because crazy peoples do crazy things,

And next time, if you see a bird surfing the ocean,

Remember, this is the gosth of your future….

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