Write

Write.
Said the Chinar leaves.
They danced.
And so did my eyes.
The autumn has set in.
And so has the trance.
The patterns in yellow and gold and orange, fading green.
That sound of my feet walking past the debris of the reality, as my eyes once beheld.
The wind has been singing too much to me.
And I have been too blinded.
Or maybe deaf to see.
But I guess, that's how it is meant to be.

I fall, with the fall, only to wake up from the deep slumber.


I am awake.
With eyes wide open.

I have fallen off the cliff.
Finally.
I've hit rock solid.
Autumn leaves.
Yes, rock solid.
But they have opened wounds.
The ones that enlighten the soul.
That lighten the hardened hearts.

The eyes can resolve the normalcy.
That's news.


~ from the archives