SMOKE THAT BROKE

Smoke rises all over
and I emerge from beneath it
my body lies there
decayed and decapitated
I am dead, I have left my body bare

I wake up
It was but a dream and i thought
that this was an indication
of my mind in trepidation
My soul has awakened
and I am free
of a life of juxtaposition
I come clean
I was nothing but disillusioned

To get rid of this smoke
is what I desire
it did nothing but broke
my every satire

I watch and I wonder
whatever happened to the worldly wise
was this my destiny, i often ponder
or the time has come to unwittingly rise

My Truce With Life

I fight, I play, I decay
and now I even know
that it is not a child's play
It is a hope, it is a revelation
it is an offering, it is an annihilation
of the victory
of my inner self over me

I just siphon out all my hate
and it turns into a sublime debate
The hatred that I had has all vanished
it has become silver what was once tarnished

My soul resurrects
and I am in question
of my own defects
Where did they go, why this condition...

I do nothing else but marvel
how this truce with life
was like a mystery for me to unravel
I have been reborn
It feels like a whole new life
it was far-fetched, it was forlorn

What was once a distant dream
is now a symphony
of a life with me in perfect harmony.

Black, Red & Blue

I turn black
I am classy, I am evil
I am cheeky and I play devil
I absorb, I suck the madness
and achieve the unprecedented shallowness

I conjure up my prejudices
Athena, the witch of Portobello
I have in me the many bitches
can see the shape of a new halo

But soon it turns red
the many facets of this bold colour
so many stories untold, things unsaid
Life in all its awe couldn't be fuller

And then I go royal
Blue is what it becomes last
All I can say is that it is far from loyal
whatever happens will become a thing of past

Black, red and blue
night turns to a midnight hue
in one way or another
I get what is my due
I can't figure, I haven't a clue
Is this the destiny
or is it a rendition
of a weird cacophony
Happiness is but the only condition.

IMMATURE

I love me
or do I love thee
it is difficult to tell
but surely a feeling to compel
I wish I could be born again
to love, to live and to be left in disdain
How i arrived at this juncture
I am myself in awe
Am I made this way or am I just meekly immature

I ask my God
the one I bow to
how He led me to this failure
of my own principles, of my conjecture
At the crossroads I now stand
and I am reminded of the real me
I need persuasion, I need reassurance
the need to be held and caressed
I feel most undressed....

Unworthy Debacle

Sun sets on the horizon
and lends a new start
to my life otherwise in oblivion
and to the limits it thwarts
My eyes open wide
to the treachery inside
and I know I was to show
my heart by lashing it in a blow

The horizon glares once again
and eases my mighty pain
I now acclaim
the wonder, the spectacle
of the unworthy debacle.