Vignette; Caged Stones.

So much caged inside now,
that it becomes so hard to point,
the cause of pain, the reason to smile,
every attempt a loss, so very futile.
reaching out is a struggle of its own,
easier to sit and silently turn into stone.

Vignette: Color.

Colors say so much,
whispering into the air,
spreading a little love,
a little envy,
injecting some pain,
extracting some chagrin,
chugging so much life,
while sucking so much of it out.

Vignette: Pure.

It's when I see such smiles,
that I forget my own scars,
the weight of life seems lighter,
suns dimmer and moons ever brighter,
such glow in the eyes,
devoid of greed or lies.
with so much warmth this fills,
ineffable by any pen or quills.

Vignette: Wait.

I still wait for you in these rains,
amidst all the fire, amidst the pains,
I try to pacify my restless little heart,
the space between us splitting me apart.
You don't know how it's like to wait,
ask me, it has become part of my fate.