Coming Back to Life

If only I were what they say as careful,
If only it was my heart that would rule,
If only there would have been no brain,
If only you were the one I wanted to gain,
If only I could somehow change my way,
Would it be easier to accept, you say?

If only I would make less fun of you,
If only I could make my eyes cry too,
If only I were a bit more trustworthy,
If only there was no sense of jeopardy,
If only sometimes I could see through,
Would I be much more wanted for you?

If only some part of me could shout out,
If only I could know what this’ all about,
If only I were some little bit more caring,
If only I would follow the steps of sharing,
If only I could see what you want to see,
Would my life have come back to me?

Image by Gerd Altmann

Country Roads

I look back at the days
Of greens and greys,
When we had our ways
Through life, that is a maze.

And I wonder sometimes,
How to ring the old wind chimes.

I laugh and I smile
By the window and the aisle,
Nights were wet for a while,
Words on top of another pile.

And I wonder sometimes,
How to ring the old wind chimes.

The colours of the beady eyes
Drew new paintings over the skies,
Some joke or two, some advice,
All of them were fun in disguise,
Always up for a surprise
Knowing the unpleasant may arise,
Never cared for petty sighs,
The thrill was the only prize.

I see faces glowing yellow
With each stroke of the willow,
I hear the empty roads bellow,
With my head on a pillow.

And I wonder sometimes,
How to ring the old wind chimes.

Image by Real Men Shoot RAW

To all the con men.

Sometimes I wonder if Nature is like the partner we all search in all kinds of relationship in our lives.

Nature has no expectation of us. Nature doesn’t claim rights on us. Nature creates a scope of betterment for our kind. Nature always strives towards supplying valuable resources for our survival.

Maybe we can learn the ONLY message it’s trying to convey to us.

Maybe we can stop LOOKING FOR pros. Maybe we can start BEING the pro in all of our relationships.

The Illusionist

I have watched you sleep
With your eyes wide open,
As I could see in them deep
A dream long forgotten.
I have seen you cry hard
From the corner of your lips,
When the waves took apart
The secret of unsailed ships.
I have heard your gasps
Which came along each nod,
Unable to dodge the rasps
They bore with the obvious flawed.
I have felt your cold hands
Under the summer leaves,
They spoke of distant lands
Where not a single soul grieves.

I have tried peeping into you
To find the mystery in your shrine,
But it was not to be, I knew,
The day you looked in mine.

Image by Stefan Keller

The Last Chapter

Do you remember the faces?
As the stream of tears races
On your heart leaving a stain
And you keep up with the pain
But fail to move along the flow,
Since the eyes cease to glow.

Do you remember how it felt?
Transcending over time you dealt
With all the faces who greeted,
Daily shower of wishes cheated
On your blindfold that mystified
The sense of belief oh so tied.

Do you remember the sounds?
The division bell calling rounds
For you to pass a verdict definite
On the faces masked over deceit
With colours of trust smeared on
That now clouds the future dawn.

Do you remember all the mistakes?
Not realizing how much it takes
To put efforts to make things right,
As others kept on with the fight
You watched but never learned
Alas, against your own you turned.

Do you remember that time?
Now it all make sense and rhyme
Along the words you danced to,
Surpassing all faith your soul too
Will lose, translating what has pearled
That was when you ruled the world.

Image by Arek Socha