Oasis

Sometimes in the dead of the night,
when darkenes shrouds everything in sight,
the chaos of daylight is yet to leave
I let the whispers of my heart
do all the talking.
And in moments as rare as
black pearl in an oyster
I find
I hear melodies
like someone just orchestrated
all that noise
that drowns my voice out
and clouds the insides of me
filling me with a music,
lending a whistle to my soul,
lifting that veil,
dissolving the mist,
till I can clearly see
All I need is some waking.

Hear a little less,
listen to it more,
so I can run the entire stretch of dunes
before me,
I can do all my walking.
Every now then
when the whispers grow louder
I should let them do all the talking.

Rest in Peace

Walking past the rocks

leaving flowers

Picked from the very gardens

you planted and tended,

Waking me at times

with tender blossoms

as I looked on in wonder.

In blooms then

In disarray now.

In your memories

Buried 8 ft under.

No, this is not your grave.

Not this soil.

Not this ground.

Just the part of me

That is at peace

Because it knows

The whole of you

Is not here and

Will never be around.

Today that side

Of the bed when I woke

Was still made.

Everything still

And quiet.

Unsettling as it was

Not a sound.

My face all creases

From all night of crying

Into the pillow

You are not here

And will never be around.

You dint leave right.

There were no good byes.

You left me to find

my own closure

And answers to

All my why’s.

My anger and weeps

Sighs and hate.

Tended those gardens

Singeing everything in sight.

Till they all wilted and died,

And wiped it all clean,

Off the sullied slate.

I move my lips

And my soul sings

I open my heart

And they takes off

On these

new found wings.

Why remember

And be sad

When I can forget

And smile.

Lost in times

I lost count of.

It has been a while.

feels like a lifetime

but still,A while.

This very moment

Under these very skies

You may walk,

But you are as good dead

To me since the day

You stopped being nice.

And now that you are

No longer here

And will never be around

I shall sleep on the

Unmade bed all alone

Thankful , finally, for

I will sleep sound.