COMPOSING LIFE

 The night calls me by my name, yet I mistook it for the dark Burried under the sheets, Scared, praying for a spark I rose up with the sun, Slept before the moon My eyes dread the nights, even before the noon All that I could see, I chose not to Shut my eyes tight, hearing murmurs a few I heard her crying, my eyes had to see Looking upon the night, I never knew it would be As I glimpsed through my dark, I finally had the sight My senses had betrayed me, for the night was my spark Oh, the moon had me blinded but I can finally see You are no moon or the moonlight, you are the night you can be I see you through my emptiness, my heart aches and dries Never have I ever, been able to hear your cries Do not ever cry, as the moonlight wets your face I see you as the night, but I also see your fears You need not be afraid, for I will let you cry My ears might be senseless, but my heart surely hears For I will let you cry, only if they're happy tears

  There were these shadows that caught my eye They seemed to be parting, and I wondered why Soon I attended to them closely And I was certainly able to see There was this black lady with her black man She was approaching him, as far away from her, he ran For as the hand of a clock He couldn't help but walk For beauty is always ahead of time That's exactly the pattern which she could mime For there's no other fate of beauty than the beast Soon I could see the light, upon her darkness, to feast The clock abruptly lost functionality The black man could retain his conscious’ centrality He glanced ahead of time, only to see his night consumed by the light For the ignition of his life turned into reverse twilight I could tell that the black man ran no more His shadow was incomplete, as the emptiness did bore So long after that, the shadow finally collapsed There was an unspoken, yet confirmed hope for their return after an elapse

 Something of nothingness, yet fulfilling the emptiness Something that knows, of the words unknown Something that blows, but the wind doesn't know Something of the praises, by the wonderous beleifs  Something of the passion, that my hands can't hold Maybe if I knew, of a place as such I would have stepped in, with my eyes blindfold

 My tooth picks the words, my gums go unheard Each root is ached, every time sugarcoats are baked Minding the teeth, it gets bitten away My teeth say more than the tongue has to say Brutally injured, tortured, limps as it speaks- "Every world has days,  they are not ready, for a day of weeks"

There's a certain bliss in words Which could really be seen through the heart For words don't make up a sentence They make up a soul And who better could be the companion of the heart If not the soul If the words arise questions They give answers as well If the words spread hatred They are the source of love as well If the words darkens your day They can brighten it up as well There's a certain bliss in expressing Which could really be understood by the heart For expressions don't convey a message They make up the conversation And who better could be the companion of the message If not the conversation If expressions arise endless possibilities They can close doors as well If expressions spread awareness They are the source of uninformed as well If expressions darken the world  They can brighten it up as well For the words are expressions and the expressions are the words For the expressions are the source of e

Do the eyes which see the glory of devastation, deserve to see the epic happiness? Do the souls which once have lived a human body, deserve to be the spirits? Do the ears which have once heard, deserve to be deaf? Do the ones who have been needy, deserve to be content? Doesn't the moonlight deserve to be dark? Doesn't the sun deserve to be cold? Doesn't the wind deserve to be still? Doesn't the beauty deserve to be unseen? Doesn't the smoke deserve to be clear? Doesn't the rain deserve to be dry? Doesn't the sea deserve to be unfilled? Doesn't the soil deserve to be inept? Do the stars deserve to be the moon? Do the eyes which have seen once, deserve to be sightless?