A wandering stranger

Some time ago, it was almost a speck; a boy I knew, but he was a strange guy. I didn’t know exactly who he was, but I could relate to him somehow. He loved to wander around in streets, even parks, the bay, under the night, lidless sky could not bind him away. I’d see him from time to time, walking. To no end. He would pass through the canals, cross the bridge, delve below a tunnel, and keep walking. He didn’t exactly know where he was going I thought; he kept moving back and forth, even looking yond his shoulder back. Whether paranoid or no, he seemed cautious. A hint of anxiety kept him, but he still kept going, somehow.

Beside the fact: this was years ago. I can’t believe it – five years. It was that long for a man his age; but five years can be five minutes in a squared amount of time. Anyway, I followed him. I wanted to know what he was doing, where he was walking, where he was going, the air he breathed, the sights he saw, the cars he heard, the people who laughed, and all the swans that swum past the brewing glow. This glow nought I had, in bitter thought comes shaking sleep. ‘Tis sound alone he ought to keep, the rest is bark to sleep. In this space, in this hour, half his sight was cast in gaze, the rest is brought in dark ahead.

Some hour later, he stopped where I just knew where he would stop. This was it. I cried. This was it. It all happened here. The beginning of an evening; the end of the morning; the start of endless night eclipsed by sun under the farthing sun. Everything just fades; echoes – echoes, into the fold. A sound deep, be it consumed in dark. Within this realm, there were no street lights, no. It was all different, you see. A bridge was yond from here, and there were lights, with some not lit. It seemed like it dimmed a road, and this was where he followed through.

Step by step, breath from breath, reduced to congealed blood that soured his heart, soon he kept his pace. His heart boiled and kettled vapour through each lung that sunk cold breezy air and dispersed a new life into the air around him. Within this dark manifold of sempre solitude shook the break of his communal worship in the gait that forsook his brow that gestured at the slightest sound that cast him from here to worlds above, so far from he, and not so far from reach.

Beneath two towering blocks, whose fumes used to bring gaze from all the city at long lost thoughts of musing jeer, at fusing cloth brought freezing fear fraught with a demise of a lost city buried under nostalgic price in gaping memory of one so lost. He stood beneath the biggest tower, sat on the grass, breathed the air. Thus seeing five brilliants of the night, felt four fragments of memory, heard thrice a wolf, a distant footstep and a ripple wrung with stone; twice he smelt a cool air and the smell of distant trees bellowing before him. Once he breathed, he became whole again. Once he breathed, he became me again.

Watching the Lambs

A cool summer’s eve drew sun in evening glory. At a distant fold knew better light where breeze and sound combined would mute the nature between them. Within that nature, with sounds of walking footsteps through trail of wood and mud, there was I and a friend going through it all. Recounting the steps to this unknown part I could not call home nor haven. It was but a guest in nature’s woods. Watching through the glistening water from premature rain to cover the leaves with tears that drooping their eaves cast light into our eyes. These shady leaves in number grew had only our shadow they knew; more they found our steps to folly they surround us. Where one of us would attempt a log to pass through, another would walk around. I was the former. Read More

Compressed Universe

Sometime ago I wandered through a field listening to the wind breezing through plants that ranged from the smallest daisies to the largest trees. I thought myself dreaming again; it was a warm feeling. Hence I thought to walk slowly and appreciate all around me. There was utterly nothing but a bright green that shimmered a sparkling light from the lake at the base of the hills. I kept walking. I saw trees around me dancing to a rhythm. There found was the evening grew; once known was the orange that bloomed and a slight breath of content with all that Nature procured. At the brow of my emotions lay all the thoughts I had that slowly poured into the lake before me and deposited my very mind to the centre that erupts a tower whereupon I shall walk. There I shall walk; there I shall ascend. Read More

Sphere of Happiness

Indeed, Madame; but first I shall inform you what I mean by love. To think of it is to think of our lives as but a space of darkness; no star to guide us, nor planet to gaze at from above; nor the suns we equal to our hearts as one; for it is none but a thick darkness that covers all through eternity and our lives. The only light we endure is within a sphere which we enjoy as that it is the source of happiness ours. Thine, ’tis a beautiful sphere that I kiss for a pearl in the darkness that reflects an aura of beating heart that illuminates mine to an endless desire to tell thee how much I love you. Read More

Wandering bird

She wanders round ere flies above her wings apart sounds the faintest for all her loneliness darts. Grieves the passing of wind and sun to foray there: none the sight but of trees whose leaves only fared. Once that chime they blessed the nests whom upon sat The greatest of her cares that bring all joy hither. ‘Tis new life given for another the sun risen thus. Gestures again the feathers that dusts the old, and old; Brings thee the charm but slowly whence blood that boil ere heat soar for children be food but threaten there at bay. Grasps the last of all she may the sound that seeps in;- none but the bird alone to save her kind; Read More

Poison beknownst

Where I escape from everyone and everything; where only silence serves as companion⁠⁠⁠⁠
it would feel as though you’re either floating up to the stars or sinking into the earth as the rain pours. Then after a moment you take a deep breath and open your eyes, only to notice people staring at you not knowing what it is you were doing or thinking. Leaving your space in that open field, you realise the moon suddenly clouded and all fails into grey. At that point you droop your head in subservience to they, and from Nature away. But then you look behind, and see the moon slowly walk away as well. Parted have you both become, the lightning that strikes heart thine now seeps a wound. Give me a drop of one that I bless the rose, for upon her lips those words uttered that shape my heart cross and fro; this rose that once I knew and slowly bed gives me way in direction towards. Read More