Free in the emptiness

Can we be empty for a day

can we meet back in the embers

that stirred our soul like wild forest fire

folding us into an empty space

far from the reach of salvation

Do you remember your freedom

can you forget your slavery

two words juxtapose themselves at extreme poles

Fear at the equivocal end to freedom.

freedom doesn’t begin without fear

Where did your soul wander

in the midst of so much darkness

why did the music stop

just when the encore was getting louder

when will the cycle of self-sabotage dwindle

For the free woman

for the feeling of effervescence

for the cynical soul

that don’t want anything in particular

and are not quite sure of what they’re looking at

until they see it set free in the emptiness

Pieces

Don’t you ever get weary of conjuring up chaos? of craving bits and pieces of Insanity? They have become as easy as the wishes that dwell in your thoughts.

it is the infallible thirst for peace that borrows a hole through your soul but life will happen regardless of what we choose;

No longer a stranger to failure for you have befriended the essence of cosmical madness

no longer threatened by the prophesies of imminent defeat.

The days of hiking down a steep hill, or swimming downstream, is expired

A little piece of you transforms into a gentle beast

a little piece of you floats with the wavy ocean that washes the faces of playing children.

Where did you go afterwards?

it takes a while to turn an orchid into marigold and a while longer to ignore the smell of your burning flesh.

And then the flames engulf your soothed skin and spits out a colour similar to lavender.

Like a thirst that could never be quenched latching onto spirit, so are you addicted to madness and the differences in between.

You are now a spool of blue poetic thread weaving itself around a brave zestful smile

You’d only just learnt that you are a soul that receives a body, and that forever and yesterday are one and the same.

Now that you have made peace with the turmoils brewing within you, what piece of you is willing to be shattered next?

Vortex

Cigarette lingers

delivering a smoky kiss

to her thorax

Like the winter’s sun

mystery shadows on alpine

innocence will fade.

He’d sit next to her

Like the gypsy’s rendition,

she’d become younger.

His voice is her salt

caramel mixed with charm

hopeful till the end

She is an Iglo

His heart now her vortex

lonely nights no more

He took her hand in his

He sang an age long lullaby

longer than she’d care for.

Flickers of belle âme

First movie her eyes allowed her see

a ballet of sorts

In another time

They could be perfect strangers

Perhaps another millennium.