chimes of a forgotten melody

Abstract : The Color Red We are seeds of the same flower, Carried by wind to poles apart, Time brings your fragrance, The spores bring your love! We are tunes of an unwritten song, Playing endlessly on and on, With the memory of each other to Keep us by, and no words to disturb Our plights. We are the dreams of a child, His agonizing fears, his deep love, His beautiful garden, his solitary cradle, His toys, and his oedipus wraths. We are memories waiting to be made, Memories of guilt, memories of crime, Memories of sorrow, memories of love, Memories that nostalgia ignites! We are half drunk cups of coffee, Cold yet waiting to be consumed, Useless and beyond all hopes, We usually get flushed out. We are a poet's funereal thoughts, Which he could never pen down, Yet in his dying cells, we live on Undisturbed! We are souls that meet after death, Forced to live apart when alive. We meet after the pains and tears ...

The Mag : Charleston Farmhouse Door During his last years, Daniel decided To speak about life to his only son. All along the tide of life, he galloped, Sometimes tall, sometimes meager, In an infinite cycle of pain and smiles, He always met doors that led him about, It was about doors he wished to speak, Doors that open onto obscure turfs. His words never held the aura of youth, Yet his eyes intended to portray zest, He neatly wrote whatever occurred inside: ' Son, there are doors all around, There are some in our home, and More around you and inside too. 'Tis seldom you shall see them, And rarely enough shall you find Them open! I may never help you to find 'em But do search around, cause if You don't it shall unite with the Walls and you would never know Its existence! Grow bold you will, and surely Open doors at will, but never hold Pride, cause locked doors are All around, and eventually you Will meet ...

I. Google Images The sparkle of raindrops Glorified the lotus. She bathed in the warmth Of the morning Sun, enjoying With every ray that shower life. A commanding motion of love Filled her fragile petals as she, Gave prostrations to another day And its radiant shine. II. Google Images A deer surged over countless rocks, Within its powerful limbs rests Life and hope. A menacing predator Smelled the luscious odor of flesh, The predator and his survival rests Within his own limbs. In a battle Of force and speed, one fights Hunger, the other fights Death. III. Google Images A man walks out to meet his love, He is greeted by a hummingbird Swiveling up and around, though He do not see the passing birds, nor The sanctified Lotus. The predator And his inevitable prey is a part Of a world the man shall never care. Clocks tick, he waits.

I remember the silent spread of napalm, And how the flesh were slowly cooked, It never took a foul lot time, to see Another war that builds itself free, We are but an advanced breed of life, And what we yearn for is evolution. The stringent laws that holds men In a surreal cage, provides them with Their daily share of a promised diet, But who cares to be free? We are born, We die. And the path to death is life, For a wholesome diet we sell our kins, Amidst the show, who wants liberty? The war is in the horizon, and weapons Are the slaves' brains. Untouchable, Unknown and Unclear it remains the Most poignant. Thank God I must, Napalms shall no longer boil flesh! Of all the things evolution has promised It gave a level fight on a level ground. So, what caused you to unsettle? Is it my words? Or is it the truth? Is it my mockery of the world? Or is it the knowledge that you are A silent part of the next war? Whatever remains ...

1 Rains Are memories  That shatter around With the cold resonating dawn. Today it is all but the same Each drop hit the Earth And artfully breaks Into countless Moments! 2 Drops Are savories Of a forgotten time Carefully blended, and clear. Each drop lines my window today Singing their stories, of Love, war and plights, And waits for My hands' Caress! 3 Artist Is he who Mixed the falling rain With the delicacy of the drops And this night indeed Portrays its skill In Art!

Abstract : Raven , the Dark Messenger A sadistic raven flapped its wings around; The monument that build itself about Grew forever in grit, power and height. It held a camp of deficient minds brooding Over what was lost in the holy fight; Lives, luxury and inevitably sanity. They searched for torches in the monument, One fatuous guy prayed for light, The raven  Knew the Sun was up, she slowly came out. The guy was called a preacher and the raven Became a concealed God, she was fed, loved And worshiped for bringing light. Soon the croak of the raven echoed in The monument, it filled the chores, It filled their senseless lives with an allusion. Sadism raced through the raven's blood again, She ate out of the children's plate, she Pecked at life that threatened her place. But it was the wrath of an angry God, No one dared to counter its flaws, And she Flew on about, unharmed and untouched. Monuments are all around we...