The setting of the Star - that once did defend,

Marks the beginning of an end.

The moonlit sky,
Echoes your whispers as you let out a sigh.
The stars burn bright,
As you witness from a height,
The beauty of the beast
As it feasts
On your soul
Creating a hole.
The echoes of the dark sky soon transform into guitar strums,
As the world begins to sing along and hum;
It awakens from its deep slumber,
And evident thirst and hunger.

The rise of the Star - reborn to defend,
Marks the beginning of an end.

In The Arms Of The Sun

In the arms of the sun
Where warmth abides
Where necessity resides
Where set afire
Are the heartfelt lies
And either broken or joined
Those once-upon-a-time tries.

Like fiery lava it burns
Smothers and churns
Combusting all a child learns
And moulding it's life's twists and turns.

In the arms of the sun
Where one does belong
Where one feels strong.
In the arms of the sun
Where one is able to sing that beautiful song
For a period of time that is long
Long
Long
But never, never, prolonged.

An Ode To A Plastic Wallet

You were sitting there,

Lounging away with your colleagues when you caught my eye.

Your skin shining brightly like a newly washed car,

As I passed you by.

Your exterior, clear as crystal, and feelings smooth as a baby’s skin

As I pick you up from the plastic wallet tin.

You move gracefully in my hands, as light as a feather,

Completely opposite to antique leather.

Your sharp edges and basic structure block all those who attempt to come near

But lost is all the fear,

When they are in desperate need of you to protect them from the waters of the storm outside.

Their dreams, hopes, and identities in you they hide.

You are a crucial item for all

And we will always catch you when you fall.

Violent Waters

When time was translucent
And laughter was the only pleasure sought
When seasons were the only change
And words and numbers were the only battles they fought.

 When rain and wind

Were the sole creatures that moulded their fear
And no abstract thought was given                   
To anyone far or dear.

 

                                                            It’s a pity time cannot fly backwards

And transport

Them to the time

When happiness was the solitary fixation they would export.

Now he gazes,

And gazes,

And feels the heart in him – which was once as light as the summer breeze that softly blew past his cheeks

Gradually get heavier

And transform into….

The wintry winds that did crash against his body;

Creating a blizzard.

 Now he gazes,

And gazes,
And watches
The waters washing over his soul – which is now a rock
And smashing into him
From all directions
Constantly.

It strikes,
Once, twice, thrice
It will suffice
Let the icy
Wind slice

A Haiku

The waterfall glides
Crashes down on peaceful rocks
Demolishing dreams

Playtime.

Out of the room the teacher stepped.

Hence came an eruption of glee from the children’s roar.
Into the playground the competitors leapt,
Out on a mission to increase their score.
Subsequently started the munching, munch munch
And little echoes of giggling.
And then the beginning of scrunching, scrunch scrunch
And soon after, scenes of wiggling.
Then came the athlete’s slurp,
As they drank with a smile.
A burp,
And then once more began the chattering for a while.
Soon later diffused the screaming,
As the footballers began tumbling.
And then the goals and footballers beaming.
Next, the arrival of the real battle and the opposition mumbling.
The faces of the players’ almost seemed wrinkled
As the allies finally came advancing.
Their eyes, like stars, twinkled;
And as they amplified the score, came the passionate dancing.
Sadly, it was then time for the bell to ring.
Consequently, the athletes returned inside, in full swing.

To avoid, or to confront,

Is the constant battle within;

Reaching up to a point where it feels like a heavy burden,

A sin.

MASK

She closes her eyes,

Swallows the tears, and mutes the cries.

The walls watch, silent and fierce,

Witnessing her drowning in her fears.

She washes away the dirt of the day,

Wishing, she could have had more to say.

Her tear-stained face, the same that tried so hard to impress,

Was now in a crumpled heap of a mess.

She looks at her reflection in the mirror and sees the ugly truth mocking her,

Her soul screaming at her.

All her windows begin to break one by one,

Until she is left emotionless, her feelings gone.

She blinks away another memory of failure,

Holding tightly to the little pieces of success that remained, since it was the only cure.

The selfless creature indulges in her blues,

Replaying the same old tunes.

Of all the masks she had put on, she’d forgotten her real self in the race,

She’d abandoned her identity long, long ago, in the disputable craze.

At night, she paints out her heart again,

As it’s the only way that keeps her from going insane.

Kites.

Once released into the vast sky,

They fly,

Keenly, serenely, freely.

 

Their goals different, but their journeys the same,

As they live up to their name

And soar among the clouds.

 

Colourful and beautiful little sculptures,

All emerging from various cultures;

A truly wonderful sight to behold.

 

Together, they rush in their groups,

Performing spectacular loops,

As they enter the world’s playground.

 

Signs of purity, youth, and innocence,

Coming together in their tonnes,

Triggers off a smile in all those who witness.

 

These kites, young faces of the future,

Are released into the wild, and befriend every creature.

 

Some fly high, and some low,

But one day, there will come a time, when all will grow.

(A poem. It's pretty simple. And, well...simplicity was what I was going for. I hope you like it. I also hope you guys get the double meaning. And who the 'kites' actually are. (:  Thanks for reading! )