The blue expanse up above

so wide, beneath which

all our lives astray

no path, just a foggy trance

confusion, delusion, askance

this life does nothing but betray

teach us all the lies, this bitch

of feelings, of emotions, of love

there is nothing but that blue thing

under which we all suffer and sing.

P.s.- Another one written just like…

Looking at the rising sun

through tears-

the veil of the eyes

it rises up

the tears fall down

Through the foggy eyes

I see the sun rising

spreading its shine

through the foggy eyes

I see the falling tears

glistening in that sunshine

giving some spark to my face

making me look like

a wet mirror

of my emotions

of my being.

Violet juice dripping down

seeping through the lips

gritted through the canines

down it flows to the chest

gives the pleasure at its best

the sipping of intoxicating wines

a quite shudder at the hips

the head be dazzled with a crown

the beautiful lusty juice

through the body, running loose.

A scarlet painting on the sky

dotted with the white wisps of cloud

like the blood that taints the shroud

of the corpse with a smile so wry

one could hear the sound of the cry

emanating somewhere from the crowd

dotted with the white wisps of cloud

a scarlet painting on the sky

the corpse's skin would wither by…

The cackling of the birds

the sound of the church bell

the whoosh of the lightly blowing wind

the drop of the drizzle like snow

the faint laughter coming from across the road

while I am sitting here

watching through an old tainted window

sipping on a cup of hot tea

a faint smile appears on my face

and that is when my dream breaks.

The few words I use everyday

to describe myself

the condition I am in

fall short of

how I actually feel.

I am not very expressive, I know

but I try to express

my emotions, my feelings

my everything through the words I write

which fall short of how it feels

to be trapped within a cage

which opens up everyday and you can go out,

Nowadays, I tend to read the posts made by the bloggers, which are tagged with a simple word- 'life' and this is what happens with me...

I read so many stories,

stories of lives of beings

who are a part of this world

like me

and then, I feel comforted

in knowing

that they are living,

that they are thriving,

I just read this poem and I felt it.. I don't know how to explain but it seemed as if this poem is written, keeping me in mind. Well that is funny because many people would feel the same... and many wouldn't. But I know I did. Here it is-

Touch Me

by A Thomas Hawkins

Touch me,
it doesn't matter where…