Crimson Sky

Let the directions be directionless tonight
And, the drunk breeze wild…
Death came to her in my arms
And, the crimson sky didn’t care that night

So, what if the tears are safely tucked away?
And, solace seems nowhere in sight…
I await the other side…
While the sky keeps burning my eyes

Your last, cold kiss…
The bloodless eyes…
And, the urn was all that was left that night…
But, there is still fire in the sky and I’m alright

The cost you paid for my life was too high…
I live, lost in the pages of your diary
While I watch the fire in the sky and think
I lost you in my arms and the crimson sky never cared…

Coffee

A lonely cup of cooling coffee
And, a half burnt cigarette dangling from burnt lips
The sultry summer catching its breath…
With the first shower of the season

But, he doesn’t notice…
The beauty…or, the mocking glances.
He has met his rain…
And, he keeps drowning

The dreamer struggles to break free
Weaving a hundred stories…
And…halting… hesitating…
He, drinks from her lips…

He fights to bury his obsession…
His addiction of her scent…of her presence…of her skin
While, he floats in her music and smoke
Sitting in a lonely staircase…

There were a hundred anomalies
An un-understood past, a scary present and an uncertain future
Yet, he craves every moment…zealous to gain her attention
Yet, insecure that maybe for her, he is a huge mistake.

Slowly, the magic passes…
And, reality catches him unawares…
And, he finds himself shunned to the sidelines
With excuses and false hopes

He watches helpless…
While his rain stops raining
And, the smoke clears…
While the music seems far, far away

He doesn’t believe reality…
Hating and loving her…
Angry yet disbelieving her actions…
While fighting to find his lost soul…

And, he finds himself back…
Sipping a cup of coffee, watching rain…
Looking for her invigoration in acrid smoke of cheap cigarettes…
Broken stairways…clouds…and…pain

The Actor

The gentle sway of an actor’s brow
The sweat, the tears…and the fierce pride
The subtle hints and twitches
And, a change of mask…for faces often lie

The beauty of every role,
And changing lives like a costume
The romanticism and ugliness…
And, the pain behind the mask…for faces often lie

The desire to reach out
Be bigger than what the stage can be
The whisper carried over like a scream
And, the naturally prepared expressions of the mask…

Oh! The madness, the heroism of it all
The vanity of being the best…
The knowledge of inspired creation…
And, knowing life is but a performance.

Passion and the thunderous applause,
The lines running like blood through his veins
He is the actor and the world’s his stage
He is a mask yet a beautiful face…