Muntazir /meaning: to expect, to wait anxiously/

You and I
Unlike dream and vision
The wilting hearts in thirst of desires unfulfilled
Swallowed in the fragility of hopes
Two Alphabets strung into syllables
The sighs on the cusp of our words fleeting yet lingering on lips
Unlike the wilderness of ephemeral solitude
The longitudes and latitudes of acquiescence unconquered, unvisited
The diverging paths tracing across the meaningless lives

You and I
We are breaths longing for the gaze of tomorrow,
Tomorrow stained without the sadness,
Without the careless abandon of a life left behind
We are the gasp of a dilapidated past
Beyond the silhouette of time
We are the fading myriad of illusions
Of the silence settling beyond the veil of our soul

You and I
We are unlike a promise
We are words caught beyond the infinities in our eyes
Soundlessly seeking for something we cannot name
We are unlike the  teardrop
Witholding a depth of regrets untold
We are the silence
Along the tranquil passage in search of ourselves,  The fainting night that blends into a dawn

You and I
We are unlike a destination
A journey beyond our wretchedness, where we are never looking back
I stand beyond the precipice, in the sea of a reticent contrast of everything
Failing for the perfect definition to mouth the answers met, as I find, you remain,
You remain, unlike the shadow in the dying darkness
that fell as an aching upon my soul

You and I
We were everything
And you were the peace beyond the uncertainty,
The breath exhaling the longing of a coveted dream
You and I
We are nothing
Yet everything.
We are unlike home
I trace you on my skin unlike a verse,
And you unlike a poetry spell a magic simmering,
Reminding there is love in every breath taken

You and I
You unlike a destination
Unlike a home
I burn all the maps in reaching for you...
I burn all left pieces of the broken past to built again

You and I
We leave.
We leave. And we do not turn back.

   ********************                                     

Unlike

It was unlike a wish
Half believing yet defeated of hope
Struck by the chance of the cosmos
Aligning unlikely the desires,
That sought the freedom of light
Desires…
The scruples of the unwise
That seeth alone the darkness of moon
The questions of the wise
That struggled hard seeking for truth

It was unlike a dream
Against the certain hour of slumber
Eyes half awake and numb
Pushing behind the dreadful pain
Beneath the pillows soaked of tears
As an unsettled heaviness crawls up within to seize the heart.
Pain…
The letters of remembrance
Locked behind the mahogany drawers,
The songs sung beneath the moonlit skies failing to escape from the grasp of memory
It was unlike a dream forlorn of sleep.

Yet unlike a breath
The faint wisp of air exhaling the deliberate compromises of life and secretly falling beneath the regrets
It was life certainly longing a breath to live the moments longed

And unlike love
The crimson spilled upon the heartstrings
Love, unlike the lost dreams and desire.
The fetish of something true and profound
Unlike the other emotions felt
Descends unnoticed in the silence
Alike the unfulfilled promises that sways across the miles.
Sometimes love appeases the distance lone and heartbroken

It was unlike love
The flicker in his darkness
The shadow to her gleam
His incandescent destination
Her effulgent home

And unlike the breath
That quietly ceases in contempt
Fate was unlike a dream beyond the infinity
When all else appears sometimes gone
Lost as a battle in despair
Fate is unlike life
Life that unfolds another day
Cherished with the kindness
Stroking the weary hands
To walk the distant miles again
To dream again...
To wish again…

To the sweet times dusked,

There lies beyond the love that could never fade.

We are S T O R I E S

We are S T O R I E S
of paragraphs and pauses
of letters concocted of mistakes and desires
of sentences misread
of silence travailing for words

We are S T O R I E S
of brief sighs traversing the paths
unknown of mysteries and truth,
searching for ways to resolve our dilemmas
our conscience streaked in monotones
of nothingness and despair
while eyes secretly peer at the distant land of metaphors
assuming in our hearts,
for everything to be but a dream

We are S T O R I E S
of incomplete verses struggling for words
we wander through wildflowers
half awake and in slumber
in vague search of adventure
eulogizing the beauty of sorrow
yet trading silently a part of soul
convicted yet unconvinced
living a life with an asterisk

We are S T O R I E S
breathing inside the heart of darkness
the soul of the infinite universe
restless yet certain
we are words longing for voice
longing to be understood
longing to be heard
longing to live the fantasy

We are S T O R I E S
pronouncing a purpose
on the pages of eternity
scribbling a different end
no matter what the fate unfolds
scribbling a fresh beginning
a story of hope
overshadowing the past.

(Image credits: Pinterest.com)