Numb Whispers

The sun rises from the east,
as they said,
And that's what they believed.
But when the dark redeems,
Light loses its beams,
Has the thought ever arise,
Where did the crimson moon rise?

They joined their hands,
bowed their heads,
prayed to God
and kicked the poor.
And still they believed
God was there above.

And they believed,
Lost in ashes
The Phoenix did rise,
But vane humanity rust,
When will we ourself rise.

And so I believe,
What my eyes sees,
Speak the words,
What my heart believes.
Lies and truth I judge thyself.
Though not perfect,
Almost perfect can be.
Not just a dot I think,
I'm just another human amidst otherselves.

The Paper

The ink waiting to kiss

the blank paper laid,

waiting for the flow

through my pen and my heart's glow.

A simple piece of paper,

Dead blank, plain and white

Staring blank at me,

asking me face to face

To what my thoughts pondered all over,

Who is she that paper awaits the sketches.

A subtle smile,

from away miles, I replied,

Its just words that would pour.

Its your blankness I need,

The romance of you and the ink,

The beauty of the flow,

My feelings, pen and you

that would draw her out with my words.

And you would reflect her beauty,

her meaning to my life,

her happiness, her sorrow,

So much would you mean for me.

You would be alive,

living the love of the ink,

Kiss of my pen and pain,

A sacrifice never forgotten,

of her, you,

Will be the only rememberance.

Who Are You?

Who are You?
I asked thee,
Unknown,Yet I know still,
A face never seen,
Yet familiar it seems,
Thy voice unheard,
Yet sweet rhythms chimes within,
And I query yet again,
Who are You?
I ask thee.

And she says,
I'm the known of the unknown legacy,
A face sketched,
zest and passionately,
The echoin' sounds,
Whom you long to see.
I answer thy query,
I'm the throbbing heart of thee.