My words brew a cold stillness,
In the mornings when I am sore,
As insomnia scares away my sleep,
And insecurities cripple my legs,
I drip onto parchments made of skin,
My blood, my sweat and the ink in the color of my eyes,
I find you in my kingdoms of prosperity,
As reality burns me down…….
The wind that carries in it,
The cold of the distant glacier,
That melts everytime it hears your name,
A ballad of sweet symphony,
And the Oh so petite heart of mine,
Why do you beat so more,
The wind that carries in it,
Your perfume made of gold,
It breaks the chains ancient,
Rusted and crippled with dust,
The wind brings me peace,
Just like that kiss of yours……
I splurge myself into pools filled with roses of all colors,
For they bear a fragrant stillness,
That incoherently drives me to sleep,
Something auspicious,
Divinely,
When they call my name,
And I close my eyes,
A melody sweet……
Caring for Art 