Winter,
miserable, you are,
flowers paled, happily,
mercury drifted morning winds,
sharpened edges,
Dancers hated your wounds, scarves,
rest assured, Granny is there for you …
she loves you even if,
leaves abandon skinny trees, and
your sun burns; she adores you,
Enjoy dispelled hope and memories never retrieved,
pointless as speechless;
bleeding dark hatred.
Beloved winter, remedy narrow graves;
pick her up from underneath, and
be nice to her; definitely nice.
Eventually, bottom Oak tree branch will fail under increasing consignments from a supreme thicker one that has thicker and bigger leaves. Leaves that allowed no sunshine to nourish deprived skinny branch that had always been thirsty for sunlight. Apes swings around under leave’s shade enjoying free food; breeding in summer. Forgotten the long lived agony’s ember. Life just got so neutral after Tarzan’s departure to the gambling city. Failed again to promote forest’s life as gamblers fancied contemporary fashion trends. Tarzan, dare you yoga or say yes to renounce ancient beliefs rooted within weak branches. Symptoms of Alzheimer, inequality of leaves poisoned authentic social ties within butterfly’s society as they fear wild snakes with faces looks more like wicked witch’s on a broom; Tarzan, remember her hair cut?
On the top branches stood the hungry eagles staring in patience at the occupants in the shed bellow. Eagle’s babies expecting a fresh tasty meal. An early morning promise made by their muscular father prior the departure. Quarterly, frogs ranks eagle’s devoted ethos as they gain weight. Branch can no longer absorb sharp nails tightness. Never disdained polluted Autumn’s wild wind, the branch’s lungs can take it no more; such a past time sin’s fulfillment. Forest, passed away in serenity before dawn. Centuries back, in a perilous valley, drunk lizards celebrated stitching forest’s bloody dreadful coffin. Black warmth at midnight gifted nasty lizards’ tinny rotten arrogance. Hey ya Elephant, while pregnant keep both eyes open, your forest might be next to die in peace ? Endlessly private.
Is it too late?..Tell it to the crowd; now you do hate your birth, body, and death. Such a shame. Yes, no one cares. Diamonds won’t help anymore as her feelings has passed away last night. Red haired has gone wild back to a dark horrible childhood, remember? As you swayed to the beat. Admit it; here you are in a fake destiny were wildest dreams dries out, you would plea knee at her feet on a rainy day were your mysterious life grows and blood flows again filling your brain cells.
Apparently, rivers gone somehow nervous as owls shed tears in a stinky valley. Hang on there, give her your hand. Evaporate, then die joyfully, smoothly in a nightmare leaving no prudent trace ever. Coming back to earth, he is lost, breathless without her tenderness that fills the evening. Life is calling him again; to a fresh death. Got his black coffin, a perfume, and a velvet belt in a suit case. Such a great harmony; mate, are you still cynical about it? It is time to recognize it; it is your own disgusting rotten life; enjoy.
..now is the time.
set your inner monster free..
while in sadness..
hug her..
till she screams..
till she bleeds..
till you hear bones crashing..
her last sway, before dawn,
she sees it..feels it..
inhale toxic..
damn it, sunshine..
silhouette; no more..
Allergenic are his feelings when he hears her yelling..
you love me no more; why should I, he wonders.
faded charms, cold feelings, never-ending arguments.
a scull filled with grey hair, hopelessly trying to feel something,
while she adores temptation
joy blew up insane minds
seductive attempts, failed..
dear, try one last time that old song
voices fly shy, dead tones,
traps just wont work
no more, admit it,
after all those years, she is…
still bleeding, still craving for him;
cloaked behind a misty smile, she remains.
surrender; maybe she will not.
she remains…a fighter.
Life After Fifty 