The ashes have been shed. upon gravestones,
that’s cold to callused calls.
I etch monotonous melodies, parched,
scorched, and repulsive like the inkling left behind
a taste too stale, playing foul tempo in my mouth
aggravating, like the feeling
of being too close,
and then pushed behind…
…way behind than yesterday
and forced to listen
the footsteps forming and fading
like dust withering away in ghost towns.
Too glossy, my eyes…sting to something
but all pain have centered into the core
where feelings are disheveled
like my hair on most mornings.
But, today, was different
like the town has shelled
my mind too distort
and shrills of emotion was left lingering…
in my comatose soul,
unproductive to the news,
that the robin has left his cage.
I craved a drug
to wash away the murkiness;
wedged like a parasite
in my already cynical mind
Too many stories and memories
breathed into the effigy of bones,
it is vexing to breath out the flecks
that shall alleviate the hidden cells of agony.
it is but grim, all this reminisce
coiled deep to the marrow of soul
your breath whispers like myriad of stars
illuminating in my black hole
Why would it have been you?
the sparrow in my garden
nightingale of my nights
cuckoo of my sleepless rhythms
why should you have agreed?
to be the best thorn less rose plucked from my garden
to be the only sunflower beheaded from my hands.
the pillars on which my whole existence existed
is now crashed on my ossified brains.
Perhaps it is the song of new beginnings;
your departure composing new meanings into me,
your smile strokes breathless luminescence
into pools of inky tears I have shed,
since that lightening, on a fine sunny morning
the thunder of your departure being announced too soon
your smiling face on my blanket was ashen
like the moon glimmering melancholy.
Perhaps, there is a meaning
to all this, and I have been marred by my glossy eyes
fretful and fearful, to see a new world without your soul.
“When one door closes, there is another one opened”
your belief is my new food of thoughts;
and as promised by your mellifluous smile
I shall pick my fork and dig in new mornings.