Her Grief

It happened again.
Softly she weeped,
behind the lace curtain. 
He slowed peeped,
Shifting the curtain slightly.
Mother on the bed laid.
Curled.
She was crying again,
with grief engulfed.
Her body quivering with every sob,
Like a bus over an ill-paved road. 
She sobbed. 
This is what he remembered,
as he reminisced. 
His mother in grief. 

  - Robes of a Muse 

The Attack

I crumbled.
The Shangri-La had been attacked,
I heard.

I pictured us,
Seated near that window seat,
Staring into each other's eyes,
As the golden hues of the sun 
set over the Indian Ocean blues. 

A part of me broke.
No one I knew was injured.
But the memory of the location,
that table, the place, of you...
It was ominous,
Symbolised where we were.
Apart. 

I was in turmoil,
Whether to contact you. 
I cried within,
Reminiscing that evening. 
A fire went out somewhere,
With that attack on April 21st,
and little did I realise,
It was within. 

      - Robes of a Muse

With Love

What do you do when you miss someone? 

Do you let your thoughts wander, 

Your feelings flow

Or let your eyes speak the words

You are reluctant to speak? 

How do you come to terms

With not being close to someone?

When their presence is what you yearn for

And their warmth your hearth.

When do you come to terms

With not being around your loved one? 

Is it through distance,

Or not having a piece of their love? 

What do you do when you miss someone? 

Tell me if you have a remedy, 

For my heart bleeds with love, 

And I dare not express these feelings of enormity. 

        - Robes of a Muse 

The Piano Player

Fingers flew over the coloured keys, 

Tunes flying, 

Mesmerising the audience.

Calmness enveloped me, 

As I watched the hands, 

Hypnotised, 

In meditation, perhaps. 

My mind strolled down memory lane, 

Thoughts gushed, 

Yet, very serenely. 

This was the cure I needed today. 

Beautiful tunes, 

Penetrating my mind, 

Easing my heart 

And calming my soul. 

         - Robes of a Muse

Destruction by Humanity

Cities change, buildings grow,
Roads widen and are straight.
Winds blow stronger, 
Nights grow darker.

We try to breathe,
Suffocate, holding our lungs.
Trees cut, flowers no longer bloom.
Butterflies die, and the colours erode.

Suffocate as the cities warm,
Shades of grey is what we see.
Rainbows, familiar no more.
Die, all of humanity in indecency. 

          - Robes of a Muse