To be Born Again

To be Born Again

brighter than the fire

I burn today myself

glowing flames

spreading brightness around

demolishing my sins

that little demon in me

demon that reflects my dark side

it gets angry, it looses control

shows no affection, it doesn’t console

as I give in my soul to the burning flames

my soul is cleansed, becomes pure

I am introduced to my superior self

I become gentle, I follow kindness

I smile as I spread divinity around

there comes a stage in all our lives 

when we find ourselves filled with dark

must we embrace a little fire then

must we give in to burn our sins

to be born again

like a child inside

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Perfection revealing Imperfection

Perfection revealing Imperfection

she smiled

to hide her agony

her eyes betrayed her

tears emerged

in her deep dark eyes

telling the story loud

like always

they never fail

to announce her pain

Oh, she is fed up

being played by her own eyes

how they have achieved perfection 

declaring HER to be imperfect

to be able to pretend

even a smile

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A City birthing A City

A City birthing A City

glorious city with colorful lights

glittering with gold, with best lifestyle

fancy people belong here

they all wear hats and long coats

their shoes polished shining

their language articulate

men always walk with pride

their ladies always glowing and bright

each one of them own a house big and plush

inside they sit and relax

while they sip their english tea in expensive cups

someone not so polished sweats

this someone not so polished, is the servant who does’t sleep

the one who cooks for a family of 20, for him there’s nothing to eat

he doesn’t wear shoes of any kind, nor does he speak good language

always he walks behind the master carrying his master’s luggage

his children have never seen a school, neither have they seen a playground

for they are forced to follow the footsteps of their father

they never step out of the servant’s quarter

generations to come shall follow the tradition

children of masters to remain masters

to rule the children of the servants

slowly, the glittery glorious city, birthing a city

that’s dull, full of pain

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The Circle of Life

The Circle of Life

In response to the daily word prompt.. Transformation

emerging …. fading

standing up …. at times bending

smiling …. weeping

building up …. shattering

holding …. abandoning

healing …. bleeding

consuming the knowledge …. sometimes ignoring

mine ….  yours …. characters performing

a play called …. the circle of life

transforming us from soil to souls

melting our souls ultimately to soil

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when the Wind blew to Connect

when the Wind blew to Connect

helpless she was

how much she missed him

this story is true 

its from way back in time

the time when there were no cords to connect

to allow her to say a few words to her lover

deep in love, how lonely she felt

staying awake, dreaming to be in his arms

she sat one night under the blanket of stars

up in the sky the moon smiled back to her

wind blowing softly caressed her skin

offering her to be her messenger to him

brushing her body, it started to travel

carrying the scent of her body to her lover

to whisper to him, her poems of love

to embrace him in its warmth

making him feel connected to the one

sitting far away yearning for his love

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Eyes so Passionate, yet Playful

Eyes so Passionate, yet Playful

fifteen years since they were together

a long time to have made memories

memories of a lifetime

he was the man of her dreams

she was still his angel

shared laughter and smiles, even tears

agreements, disagreements all in store

they walked their path hand in hand

still in love so madly with each other

it was a day so special – their anniversary

she eagerly waited for her gift

he entered the room, a ribboned box in his hand

he hid it behind his back

excited like a child

she made a little sweet mistake

it was the moment she looked up to him

his eyes so passionate, yet playful

oh, how sensually she melted

in an instant, the gift was unimportant

she kissed him as it was their first

she hid herself in his arms

and they made love

for the rest of the night

she only could open the gift box

the following morning

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A Caress so Smooth

A Caress so Smooth

the glitter of lights all day long

flashing cameras all around her 

her fans, screaming in praise

singing along her performance

the fabric of her gown

smooth against her skin

beautifying her looks glorious

flawless face, shining eyes

surrounded by a million followers

towards the end as the show concludes

turning the bright to dull and dark

getting shivers to think of going home

she takes a ride with her loneliness

her hands trembled to unlock the door

no one no more waiting inside

the house is now disturbingly silent

she sinks into the couch, her eyes not blinking

holding a smiling picture of her Mother 

she gave it a caress so smooth

holding it tight against her chest

imagining mother’s gentle kiss on her forehead

she readys to cry for the rest of the night

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his SKY was never enough for HER

his SKY was never enough for HER

her glance

glued to his frame

never failing to loose his sight

in hope, she opened her arms

craved to reach out to him

her soul longed for his embrace

how so much she needed him to care

to look at her softly, just once

with a little affection in his eyes

sigh – he never turned

to face her

didn’t she know

his SKY

was never meant

for her rainbow to glow

his SKY 

was never enough for her

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if the STORM was a little ORDERLY

if the STORM was a little ORDERLY

In response to the daily prompt. The Magic word Orderly

——————-

I wonder if the storm be a little orderly

would it be not so loud, so harsh

would it be a little less destructive

would the wind decrease its massive flow

would the tide rise not that high

If only the storm was a little orderly

would it not make the buildings to fall

would it not gulp lives too many

would a little more be spared from its wrath

If only the storm was a little orderly

the bridges may develop a few cracks

yet they won’t break completely

they would still allow the cars to pass

If only the storm was a little orderly

I would still find my wife and children back

for they wouldn’t end up being in the storm’s mouth

I would still find them standing under the tree

waiting for me

only if the storm was a little more orderly

the storm sure, would loose its power

the power to become gigantic

IT SHALL NOT TURN INTO A STORM AT ALL

If only the storm had learnt

to be a little more orderly

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