To heal, or to hurt?
Hurting reminds me of it all..

-The heights we attained before the fall.

-

I'll walk you through the isle of passion..
Where fogs would fail to impair your vision.
And all we yearn for- the lily, enshrouded by thorns.
We have to touch the lily, its bloom is why we walk this isle.

¡Aye! The time is nigh.

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Let the pigeon bear this four hundredth letter.
Tary till the last petal of the lily pales.
Just when Fall is nigh,

Take it to her, a dove in the den of iniquities.
In the glowing lights of the silvery night..
When the dry leaves shiver without a sound.

I can't wait for the first blossom of the lilacs,
To remind her that my love has never been more profound.

Let the pigeon soar!

-

Do you remember everything?
Or are the memories sunken in the quick sands of time?

It's all we had, as we defied the cruelty of fate.
Somehow, it felt good- walking through the spears, tip-toeing on the spikes.

We told ourselves comforting lies and yearned for truth in it.

Oh, we spent all the fight in us, and exhausted all the strength we saved.

Do you remember anything?

-

I know a D O Z E N ways to enchant a mind,

And a H U N D R E D ways to captivate a soul.

But You know only O N E way to make a man breathless.



-Your eyes.
They never fail!

-

I conquered myself,
To make a place for you.

I crushed this mind made of stone,
To show you the tenderest of affections.

You shattered this heart made of glass,
To test your might; to bring the fiercest of men down to his knees.

I conquered myself,
And you carted away the ruins of the battle.

-

Hey stranger?

I have the words and the liberty,
But I fear it may come forth rather prosaic than endearing.

Not devoid of passion nor sincerity,
But I fear this enchantment may render my cold heart searing.

Hey stranger?
You are the warning I'll fail to heed;
My muse, and perfection indeed!

-

...And the match stick bruises itself as it strikes its box; giving itself to flames;
It lits up a wick.
...And the wick surrendered itself to the oil, becoming one with the oil.

Sitting on the fount;
It embraces the chaos and illuminates in peril.

It burns..it's dying.

But you cared little..

-

Exposure and growth might redefine what you've 'always wanted'.

-

AT THE DOORSTEP.
I'm certain he heard my footfalls...
As I wielded a scythe , ready to hack down it's door.
Alas, the door was worth saving!
So he opened the door and said,
'Do you want to behold that which is true from where you stand?
Or that which is true from where I stand?'
'Do you want it as soothing and subtle as the touch of a snowflake? Or as excruciating as the touch of a burning coal?'
'Hack not my door, for I'll tell you what is true because you want it to be true..'
I leaned in to whisper the secret to fate,
"No, I seek you not for the truth, but to snatch that key! -my destiny is mine to control!
I'll be the master of this sea and sail through the storm."
"Cling not unto that key, for I'll walk away with the key in my hand, or with your hand, and the key buried therein!"

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