The rain drips down the window too fast,

The curls of the wind juggle the droplets

And drops them on the leaves.

I expose the water to the sun,

They evaporate.

I put them in the snow,

They freeze.

The changing world, the changing Sun.

Water cannot bare anymore

It needs time to settle.

Yet, it moves, it is never still or content.

I know a place in my own head.

I can write them down.

I can preserve these precious droplets

From the Heavens.

His back faces me.

Torn in two, the perception

Of God, and himself.

The remaining ripple in the lake.

The vibrations that cause it.

The earthquake that is soon to happen.

What can I do?

My feet are planted on this earth.

But if my pen will reach the pad in time,

I can freeze the earth in time.

The Hand that guides me is taking me too far.

The light that illuminates my path is jagged.

I don't want to go on in this light

Yet, this is the path chosen for me:

A God-given right.

His eyes fail to see

I am standing over here

On the broken glass.

The unrequited heart

Meets a stranger's eye.

The feeling swells,

Then ceases.

Another stranger walks by…

I feel dizzy.

I saw the future in the blink of an eye.

OUR future, the sun and moon eclipsed

Although, only for a second.

Oh! Hurt by another heartbreak,

I expected more.

His eyes deceive me.

His heart, soul, spirit became

Opportunity.

I am reserved for this revolving world,

But meant for none.

My heart is that of

The Dying Artist.

My undying Thirst

Must be quenched with words.

I must sacrifice myself

On this written path.

His eyes can function

But he still can't see beyond

His pitiful, hollow self.

The water, the ripple, as well as the heart:

Are one in the same.

One in the same torn vision

Of the man who happens to be in the center

Of the universe;

The hours continue, yet he stares

At something that isn't there...