That May Day

That bright summer afternoon, no orange sun to see, Warm lights through doors it stepped in like a crowd. A warm loo sweep through the door went flung open, It murmured voices so strange, so undesired. I had my head down bench and rimmed through past, 'Yet the may day I not wish the same' I heard my voice. Though wisdom had no answer, no fresh did I saw, The warm sets declared and here grimmed a nightmare. Ill face no swarm to fly, no bird to chirp, Little gems that fallen and crushed levy haven. Dried red lips of mine murmured 'Yet the may day Had the sun rose through west I not wish the same'. And monday morning today is cool, Expedition of what sun to see, its orange. Silver sky and me eyes far away the view, Its clear as pearl threads from heaven. At last my way is clear, not the way it disappear, In the breeze so fresh and drizzle frizzle. At last my feet can step where destiny doesn't want to, In the time of mine and none of other, the way I want to.

You know how that is...

Its a time, mere personalisation, and an unbelievable arena of human artistic period where one doesn't know what's about to come next even though he recognises that its just what he wishes for!

So, there is little time left to live in the love of destiny and the rest to put the abilities onto tests.

It seems a little time to realise the facts that only one step have numerous fringes to cross over, and believe that this one step have strong tendency to let the fate change forever...

A one designed for millions, packed in boxes, shipped to various boats of the world and to the mysterious destinations worldwide, that one is only for you!

With a silent show and all audience dispersed, one has to point on tough decisions , rely on the fate and let the tides afresh him with new breeze of all those familiar voices tailored for you!

So, you know how that is, its just the time to let it go, the time shall fix the appropriate proportions and make everything as it always should be!

An Old Man on the Porch

He is 7 years old maybe, mere orange furnished colour on the anatomy, fairly looking eyes and a big bright face.
He walks in grace, leads his peers in the toughest of terrains and furious of the rains.
He is an old man on the porch resting on his big mind, below the shade underneath humans' visions that sets him displace his throne.
He is a night prowler, every rise in another dark pace.
He is a friend, near and dear, exemplary compliment since times, a security men ruling across the pendent, all designed in money and pride.
He is the hero of his story, his mandate presence made the mystery more applaudable, a world where wests swims into easts and be friends, friends forever.
He is old, yet his throne is inevitable, beyond all lessons thus he stays and coexist and leaves fierce flights in dust....
He is a dog, mine a street borne,the best companion of all times, standing still in generosity, well a God's own gift wrapped in essence of pure love!

Acoustic Guitar Strumming By Me!

How's one fall weak?

Sit back and watch, all so lonely and all so weak...
A tired horse out of the race course , shredding memories of his glories and watching that all going...
Swift snoring out the passions indeed which ones looked back seemed legit but...

Behind every observation is a clear practical implementation, every single detail has been traced and none of the tracks are derailed...

Henceforth, every little hesitation has a clear demand of gaining pure majority and such evidence that followed locked minds and infuriated souls shall stick aside the serious notes and shall thereby suspend the senerioty of submission...

Not every single soul is admirable, only one with onus of style found in all odds of the fall shall be able to trace the real face of weakness...

And the one who finds the weakness and unable to apprehend the finest of the souls shall fall in another weak and have the courtesy to stay resting and staying silent in the nest of cowardness...

Here's how one fall weaker with every second moving on and on...

February Once Again!

Tonight I don't want to explain or try imagine and engrave on the canvas of a digital enterprise through the words of a helpless poet all in the respect of a due perspective...
No!!!

After losing one such post while composing, I tried to marginalise some minor interconnected facts all in the context of a little period of thought process...

Today during my cycle ride, I rode my cycle for about 10 kms in and around the city. Music on, top gears and paddles high, a view so extra special and highlighting , an adventure so escalating.... sorry! I started imagining!!!
On my ride, I drew a minor boundary of me and mine... a win and a loss... a day and a night... a quest and a dream.... a heart and a stone... and much more...
Why not put the things onto test?
My this little question on hunt in this little world!!!

Oh! The night is on... switched on... I am going to sleep... you also go... we will discuss it tomorrow...