When stories end

Like a small piece of land in the middle of an ocean
my heart’s sinking in the sea.
My arms flailing bout,
there’s not a shadow of doubt
I’m about to sink beneath.

I’m screaming in sorrow, I’m screaming in pain.
There’s no one around to hear.
All the pretty friendly fishes
turning into shark-like witches,
Feeding off my primal fear.

It’s the fear that consumes me, the fear that destroys
A fear chilling to the bone.
Colder than the icy waters
in which my heart slowly flutters –
It’s the fear of being alone.

I can hear your fake cackling echoing in your hollow soul.
Our friendship mortified.
My heart can’t grow gills
In anger it wills
that our friendship dies.

I guess it’s the same sadness, the very same fear,
that forces you to be one of them.
Selfish and conniving.
Lying and depraving.
I think its time for the end to begin.

Her!!!

Someone once told me you should never ‘fall’ in love, but ‘stand up in it’. But I don’t believe this is Love. This is fear. To know Love, is to know her peace and her pain. To know Love, you will remember her gripping and consuming yield, and never forget her shattering, heavy ache. To know Love is to know both her elements. Only seeking her peace, is not Love at all. The following poem is inspired by Kahlil Gibran’s ‘The Prophet’ and his teachings on this emotion. Her. When you approach Love’s shimmering waters, Her glittering waves will beckon you. Dive in and immerse your body in Her ocean. Think not of your submersion. Think not anything at all. For when you surrender, you are no longer yours. You are a mere droplet . Mindless. You belong to Her. Her tide may take you kindly, Her body a melodic wave. She will take you, softly yet deeply, drifting towards the Sun, Basking in it’s rays. But know that darkness will fall soon, And you, sea-faring droplet, in the chill of the night, will lose the light of the Moon.
Her tide is treacherous, Her brisk winds will throw you,
Thrashing against ocean shore, And strip you will She, in these perilous waters,
A part of Her ocean no more.
But as you do not fear Her profound, soothing current, Or her warmth of Sun, Nor should you fear Her tempestuous tide, They are the same and one.
Walk into Her water, And fear you should defy, For not delving into Her ocean, Is what, but a life lived dry. Climb towards Her mountainous peaks.
In Her altitude be intoxicated, Let Her fog cloud your sight and mind, Inhibited, yet elevated. For these are part of this journey, In faith and in awe, To exclude her blurry sensations is, To never really climb at all.
Know that this is a slippery path, And some may find footing to the top, But in every step you may plunge and plummet Her depths, Falling and forgot.
Come to Her as she calls, Stand at Her mountion side,
It is but only when you know Her falls, Will you know Her atmospheric highs.
Stand at Her ocean shore, Be summoned unto Her waves,
For only when you give yourself,
Can you truly be bathed.