empire of the sky

The room is as lighted as the evening stars , their glow flickers like the worn out candle standing as a dancing maiden .
it has a canvas to live on
a paint to survive on
a color to give in
nothing living
just the dampness of assumption making streaks of happiness on its brush
its art .

no time is alive in the hours of thought
in the minutes of feeling
in the seconds of destruction

In the space of trust .

the dust lies like silhouette pitted against the crumbs of nature
shuffled
it remains its position like the dew drop on the leaf vein

now i see it
there is a smile too
a quaint tremor of lushness demanding sublimity from the divine
there is a story telling at the twilight of my senses
slowly the they drip past the smell of life and trickle down in the unknown gauges of sounds
of sights
of flickers
stubs
wax trembling down and stinging me with a pain so unique .

i remain a pastel in the hands of a symmetry
stroking each strand with a whisper lay bare
the night was delicate in the silence of the sea
the candle which lay, had no twinkle to share.



....