Saturday, March 17, 2012


Her eyes resembled a panda.  They were sunken deep into her flesh.  The lids were weary, leaving a small gap in between.  The caffeine from the coffee left her awake.  She closed her eyes to compose her restless body, laying down on a bed of roses.

Roses.  They were full of thorns.

Her wandering souls were unrest.  She tossed and turned.   There were no comfort zones.  Rest, oh my weary souls.  Rest.

Her Instinct, A Fatal Aspiration

Fired up with passion, each word that pursed through her lips amazed her.  They listened cautiously, marking  the details.  Though vague, the details were valuable and served at its maximum.

Each generous ears opened up hope, leading ways for repentance and amendments.  She juggled her dying prospect as it lifted off the ground.  Their credibility challenged her once again.

The thoughts cheered her.  Their anxiety was presumably resolved - none of her concern.  She acclaimed their efforts, but such witness was short-lived.   

Her heart was confused - some made her laugh, yet bore loud evidence of their nonchalant efforts.  Words were shrugged off at their shoulders, as if who cares.  Each lines rocked her patience.  She was threatened to respond brutally.  Her imaginative hands were fast equipped with a rattan.  She could slash at any moment. 

How should i do?  Abuse with these autocratic hands of mine?  She surmounted her anger with questions and subdued to disappointment.  All wicked intentions did not brief the definition of her career.   Her labour  was built upon an aristocratic aspiration, of hope and of love.  Don't make a monster out from me.
I don't hunt; i nurture.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Mirror On The Wall

Her eyes feasted on the familiar reflection through the looking glass.  Her hands slowly caressing the figure that seemed to carefully copy her.  The puzzled look upon her eyes bewildered her.  She gently touched her lips as if suckling the life out from them.  Each move was transcribed carefully only in silence.   

Ah... each word read her lips.  She was disturbed.   

Mirror on the wall, 
Here we are again.  
Through my rise and fall, 
You've been my only friend.  

You told me that they can,
Understand the man that I am.  
So, why are we here, 
Talking to each other again?

Her body shivered as the words ran through her veins.  Why are we here, talking to each other again? 

So, why are we... beads of unsung melody dripped down from her eyes.     

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Perhaps, Maybe

Perhaps, there was an immaculate world of such, where sins would not find its way, an enigma.

The way of the above marveled her.  The mighty hands that threaded the way of this world, to where she was sent with a purpose, an unknown purpose.  

With her feet above the world, hers jingled for adventures and all the more.  Like a naughty little elf, escaping from life of the pole to a life she was never meant to live - a life where cupids blessed, a life where angels sang, and a life where the church bells rang.  There were more than cupids, of angels, and of church bells that she could have known.  

For her, she was made only witness of the surpassing moments.  There were plenty of people like herself in this world where she had yet learn to accept.  Some still in search of the mystery.  Some like her, wherever it leads, she shall go.