A Glimpse Of The World Where They Belong. Together.

She'd locked herself from the world into a shell. She wouldn't let it open and sat idle there, but a with a turmoil of emotions within the realms of her mind.

She often heard a knock on the shell. The thing would exclaim it was positivity and good will. And she'd never open the shell to it. Not that she couldn't, but she didn't want to.

But it never gave up. It was relentless in its resolve. It kept knocking and she grew fed up of it. Yet she refused to opened up.

Then one day when she opened her eyes, she found she'd fallen asleep in someone's arms. She looked up and saw Him. He was smiling. It was Him. He brushed her hair off her forehead and kissed it.

Once again, the knocking resumed. But now, she wanted to open up. Now they wanted to open up.

He pushed open the shell and finally, a bright ball of white light covered the entire shell from within and lifted it up into the clear morning sky. When they opened their eyes next, they were nestled into each other's arms, safe and sound, and happy.

The shell had vanished.

Now they had opened themselves and herself to a beautiful world where they belonged. Together.

They gazed at the sunrise reflected over the deep and vast ocean.

They belonged to each other. They belonged to this world. Their world.

(September 30, 2008)

Plural is a singular word
Plural likes duplicating and multiplying things.

Plural once looked out at the blue-as-blueberry skies
And asked himself, "Why am I single?"

Pluralia noticed Plural- a solitary being
Wondering if Pluralia and Plural could make it into a plural.

The blue-as-blueberry skies smiled at Pluralia
showing off one of its Gold Tooth.

The Gold Tooth in itself was so large
Pluralia and Plural were taken aback by its gigantic size.

Plural looked at Pluralia
Pluralia chanced a glance.

Glances took form and
Pluralia and Plural brushed off their singularity.

Thus, Plural was singular,
And Pluralia and Plural made it a plural.

The Fallen Star

(November 23, 2007)

Look here, ye' great men
look at the little star that has fallen on earth
it seems to have lost its shine, its identity, its mirth

Come to glance at the poor thing
see how dark a star that shone so brightly can be
lost in the melancholic sounds of its own dreams

Oh! You must come and congratulate it
for having shone so brightly not long ago
remind it of the way it used to stand out and glow

Push all the barriers, break all bonds
great men and great minds unite
Help build back the broken star with all its light
May the new star last much longer
than it ever did during earlier nights.

The Lost Angel

A lost angel
Wandering in the moors
With grey and black
And all of its hues

Stumbling in the dark
Unable to fly
A lost angel
Fallen from the sky.