Bullets fly to maintain peace.
Who are foes, who are allies?
Nights are long for fires not cease,
and loud are the peace rallies.
Fog of war is blur but clear-
we see but do not believe.
To the past the futures steers,
and all we ask is to live.
Truth is shamed, a lie is praised-
now unsure which flag to raise.
And slowly it burns in the fires of pyre
the figure that warmed us with golden words.
Even in pale death how neatly attired
all so ready for the journey onwards.
Old memories blaze as the flames engulf
to wrap me in that familiar embrace.
Tears well up as I try to bridge the gulf
between truth and hope lest I lose its trace.
Often I feel the presence in my dream-
in the lovely haze I wish that clears not.
I wake not though unreal it may deem
for it binds us with those surreal knots.
As the pyre burns- I muse, fidget and fuss-
if ever a soul lived for a purpose.
Can you enjoy the summers
when the heat is on and long?
And snow with its cold murmurs-
or fails to tune in a song?
Do you enjoy the rain drops
or they fall hard on your heart?
Does the autumn bring dep sobs,
and spring seems less of an art?
All weathers can bring a smile
if your soul is not fragile.
Need an armour so these arrows deflect,
or get blunted by the sharp iron grille.
These arrows nothing but misery reflect,
and need to burn them with a fiery will.
They cease not to shoot from the blurry past
for fate has a quiver full of these darts.
Let them not find their marks and shadows cast,
for they relish and eye those fragile hearts.
Forge an armour - break these shafts with metal
lest their jealous paws put a scratch on it.
It is time to arm and prove your mettle-
you have the wit and the skill to hone it.
So fear not that spear that threatens to pierce
for its flight may be swift but fright not fierce.
I swore I would exercise.
But the strain now makes me swear.
I swore to give up all vice-
this guise I swear when I wear.
I swore I would help poor souls.
But swore when they asked for more.
I swore to reach my life goals.
And swear when demands galore.
I swear, I swear and I groan.
And swear to what I have sworn.
A fat fish swam in the calm blue waters.
A fisherman in a boat sped to catch it.
The fish swam faster to lose its stalker,
but the net was set to cast to latch it.
The fish seemed to have given up the race
when it spotted another fisherman.
The fish swam to entice him to a chase,
and soon was in the middle of these men.
It surfaced, smiled and dived into the sea.
To snatch it, both fishermen collided.
The fish escaped- these two were all at sea-
helpless in water clumsily chided.
Hunger not sated, for long they waited-
entangled in their own nets stood baited.
Years add feathers to my hair.
The black shine is now white glare.
Come and sit by my old porch-
have a jug of wine to share.
Over the eyes wall is built-
eyes are open, see nothing.
Wall is bricked to hide the guilt.
And if it falls, eyes may sting.
The wall is layered to divide
those who appear to differ.
These blocks will mock and deride,
and make human race dimmer.
To cement, we need not much-
break the wall that denies touch.
You have magic in your charm.
Or with silence you disarm.
Those sweet soulful eyes absorb-
And any hustle can calm.
The time you popped open your sparkling eyes
my life seems to have signed up a new lease.
The whoops of joy were timeless, undisguised
which year after year I knew would not cease.
You were always sure of what you wanted-
be it school, friends or eating an ice cream.
The beguiling innocence you flaunted
that still makes me smile even in my dreams.
You are one of the rarest gentle soul
with patience to match your inherent might.
I know this makes your mischievous eyes roll-
which is one of the most beautiful sights.
Life is a jigsaw they say, that maybe-
you will solve them all - Niyo, my baby.
