Red Dahlias

It was a lonely winter night, cold and wet, with the wind blowing strong. The dry autumn leaves were plucked by the wind and strewn on the street. The wooden bench by the pavement was old and moist, with pearls of water dripping down from it. The street was deserted and silent; even the night owls had left in search of happier homes. He stood in silence, taking in, the solitude and melancholy surrounding the place he grew up in. Scenes of life, colorful and bright, at the very same street replayed in his mind. Nostalgia took over his mind, and flooded his thoughts. He saw her there, sitting on the bench, dressed in a floral-patterned summer dress and wearing a wide-brimmed hat. Her eyes were like diamonds on her face, brightened by the sun's rays. She turned to look at him and smiled. Her smile made him feel weightless, excited and happy, all at the same time. He lived a life with her as a dream. Dreams gave him those small pleasures of being with her. But he knew the reality; she could never belong to him, she was beyond his grasp. The brush of the cold wind brought him back to the present day, to the empty bench. He walked forward, placed the red dahlias and the Merlot on the bench. He turned and walked away in silence, completing the ritual he had been doing every week for the most part of his youth.

Enigmatic Mind

Escaping the confines
Of my claustrophobic mind
Presents itself as
A virtual possibility.
Ironical will it be
To make it a reality.
The chaotic harmony
Of enigmatic elements
Is a luring temptation
To the greedy intellect.

Lonely in a crowd

Solo in Manhattan.
Faces.Lights.Sounds.
Around is a crowd
But lonely as an island
Memories to be forgotten
The winds blow them away
To distant lands
Far away from reach
By my fragile form.
Solo in Manhattan.
Sadness. Pain. Love.

Precious

Another useless one.

---

Forever it seems,
That I know you.
But just a few months.
Your thoughts are mine,
My words are yours.
Completing you,
Not changing you
Is my wish.
Feels dreamlike, unreal,
A day passes by,
The bond grows stronger.
To be your precious,
Is my longing.

Life lessons after alcohol : The only precious gem mined from inside of me using 3 vodka martinis and a tequila :D

To the optimist, the moon is a bride, awaiting a bright life ahead.
To the pessimist, the moon is a widow, mourning the sorrow of her past.

Dear quarter

Quarter, quarter please end
Energy nor time
I have no left
To fight through
Day after day
Of grueling work
Quarter, quarter please end.

Mirror, Mirror

I stare long
At the magical oracle
Which answers to none.
Why do you exist?
I ask of it.
Am I wise enough to know?
I hear my echoes.

Unseen by naked eye
The reflections of mind and mirror.
Crisscrossing the medium
Like bullets; swift and powerful.

A psychological battle
With victory so close, yet so far.
Friend and foe, embodied together
Their deaths intertwined
I cannot live, while she dies.