Moments locked in time, Blue sky withheld by the arc of divine... Chirping birds hop around, Green leaves brushed by the whispering winds... Shadows and brightness intermix: Murmurs of routine chore and clanking steps Blur in the backdrop. Passion needs to be redefined For different shades of same Camouflage in rusting rims. A single glimpse Of a butterfly pair, Of a fly coasting by your car's windshield, Of horizon changing colors through the day, Of moon emboldening even against bright sunshine: That which give you a moment's peace, A moment's breath, A moment's escape. Evanescent hope traversing Through incoherent waves of imbalance... Gripped in a tangled mesh, You see the world walking past, At a faster and faster pace. Florescent colors, Laughter and cries, Silence and wails, Juggle about in a circus Of shallow lives. A blinding giant wheel that numbs your senses of reality. Caught up in a vortex, Of past and future The present dilates, In incongruencies that make up most of your life.
She easily slips in beneath your covers, Although you’d locked yourself up, Blanketed yourself To not fall prey to her… Without approval, She sweeps in like the soothing warm wind against your cold skin. Titillating you. And places herself cozily Inside the auricles of your heart, Interfering with the cadence of it’s beats. But adamant, She plants herself comfortably in, Expands and grows with every passing second… But Her will, Her own. As swiftly and noticeably she enters She leaves on no foretold day, In a moment, touched. In another, lost. A gaping hole, A burning void, You know she’s hit you again… She camouflages herself: In the golden horizon at dawn, Till she burns red and leaves again. Yet you look forward to find her, And this time, She’s spread across the dark expanse of night, In flickering lights below and above. But she flies away, With no promises of meeting again. But then in one sparkling moment, You see her smile, In a human you just met. She hides in covers of nostalgia at times, Or in ephemeral moments sprinkled across the cosmic ocean. She’s too clever. Her will, Her own. As she leaves you aching, By her untimely escape And you know she’s hit you again. Happiness, In sporadic moments, Moments that happen, When least expected. Its best to accept As her will, Her own. Happiness: a warm gun.
