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)

The Silent Observer

(Image credits: photofy)

He saw the age of time

Unfold the delicate petals,

Rare yet easily beguiling 

Of a poison flower.

Traded on the paved streets of vanity

A concoction of charm,

Fleeting bliss secretly fading in the dark.

Its merchant deluded to a world unaware

Awake yet sauntering in narrow alleys asleep.

Souls sought to grasp its strings 

Thirsting for happiness unfulfilled

For lives dreamt yet failed to live

For love, 

Love, the ghost that never lived

And never found.

"How selfish, how cruel" he sighed.

"What's life alike a dreary parasite 

Wreched, and gloom

Feeding on moments lived,

Yet truly unlived,

In ransoms of unfateful pleasures of approval and gain." He deeply moaned.

His eyes reflecting his sorrow,

He groaned under the streetlight.

None cared to pay him attention

While they wandered silently in the shadows

He carelessly barked with his heart sinking inside

He lost his one and only,

His truest friend,

The one who dearly cared.

The one he loved much.

His master.

He sighed, shaking his head in dismay, and quietly strayed on the paths ahead, sleepless, and hungry.

*  *  *  *  *

Behind the darkness

While the city slumbers in the silence,

 Behind thick velvets and dim lights.

The fluorescent yellow burn across the streets,

And the moon quietly hide behind the clouds.

There still lies a world, awake.

In the corners of the town.

Living amidst the crowd yet hid behind the shadows, Behind the veils of a gossamer gray, with spider's web weaving an intricate tapestry.

Little eyes silently peer out from their hiding place,

Their faces pale, lean frames appearing anemic, 

The unfortunate few, 

Born to wrestle to survive, 

Born under plight of poverty, their lives a constant struggle, 

Suffering the maladies of a broken and lost humanity.

Shabbily dressed, unkempt hairs, tears stained cheeks, feeble, yet they are bathed with the luster of ambition and dreams. 

Draw closer, 

And reach, to learn more what the darkness hides.

Behind the gossamer gray, 

A glimpse into the world beyond,  

A world dark, full of nothings.

An abyss of deep darkness.

The darkness of fate,

The darkness of souls,

The darkness of callous hearts.

The darkness of a world of unspoken truths,

The bitter and ugly truth.

Empty room, dim lights

Silent lips quivering in a corner

Her curls fall over her face, 

Wine drip from the glass in her hand.

She is intoxicated, 

Intoxicated, but, with grief.

She wore a cocktail dress and high heels,

Flaunting her perfect body with the glitter and glamour.

She appeared a flawless beauty.

Yet her eyes appealed something deep. 

Behind the smile and charm

She hid her story, the truth of her pain.

Her heart was secretly torn inside,

She burnt with a thirst intense,

Of promises and desires unfulfilled. 

She smelled of alcohol and her favourite perfume,

Yet the lingering smell of longings

Never faded from her.

The longing of nothings,

Of nothings left betrayed,

Of longings, none can explain.

She silently hides in the darkness,

And the world will never see nor hear her cry.

Sometimes, sadness is beautiful.

Sometimes, sadness comforts while the rest of the world suffocates you.

And sometimes sadness is all that is left, as your own.

There's always a story, 

Hiding behind the mask,

Hid behind the curtains of misfortune, and despair.

Behind the shimmery make up, hiding its scars of past,

Behind the silent lips, that cried all night, hiding a story of desperation and abuse.

Behind the smiling, guilty face, disappearing in the shadows in dark.

The darkness of awful silence, 

The unspoken silence.

The unheard truth.

* * *

A Stolen Page

She was a page stolen from a paperback,
A mystery they claimed.
Unsolved,
Imperfect

She was a heart full of verses,
Torn in pieces
Broken in metaphors
Her flesh ripped with words that wound
Crimson bleeding as ink on the pages blank
Narrating her silence
Scribbling the unspoken truth in sentences,
In paragraphs incomplete,
In letters capital
That screams her soul in ache and despair

She is a page, a sheet of glazing ivory,
Ripped off from the book
Guarding secrets inside its depths
An abyss deep,
Burning with thirst intense
Of promises and desires unfulfilled.

A page, slept in the ashes of memories
Yet folded in fragrance, of the mists of rain
That smell of longings,
None can explain

She is a page stolen from the whispering dark
A tormenting mystery
Hidden,
Unheard
Drifting silently in the haze of time
Carried by the zephyrs
From the wilderness atrocious
To the distant lands
Of everything torn.
--Sybil Samuel

ALICE

She haunts
In the daylight
Tracing me in the deep haze of memory
Her warm breath that smell like wine and ginger
Remains on the silhouette of my skin
I sense her fingers caressing my hairs,
Then nimbly scrawling her name on my palm
She cries out my name in the silence of midnight
Keeping me awake at unusual hours
I search her
Following her voice
In the distant and dark
My soul a restless wanderer
Desiring the arms of solace
To calm my weary heart.

She softly sings me a lullaby
When her heart brims with care.
Her eyes leak a fountain
That leave behind trails of ink
Rolling down her cheeks
And breaking into verses
Filling the blank spaces with her scrambled thoughts
She was a mystery
An unsual paradox
My shadow
My agony
In disguise
The ghost of a lover
Of a love
I lived in dreams
Appealed by her sobriety
Deceived by her charms
She was a poison in a golden chalice
I drank
And sank in depths of a world forgotten
I wished she was a lie
She is my torment
Still she haunts me
Living in a guise
Even in the daylight
Never seen by the waking eyes.