I was running down the lane,
It reads, ‘ beware: fourth phantom lane ‘.
Cold, homeless wind chasing me lost its way back,
ghostly moribund woods curled up to create a cage.
My noiseless bare feet hurried.
Sick soil got damp
and I was back then among the lives I thought I shouldn’t be with.
They told me how Wind and Fire conspired
when I was crying for the Moon,
how curses cuddled me in the cradle .
Deep waters chased me beyond the less happier lands
that growled and glared .
I stopped .
My brain filled with lead had a domestic fight
when my heart chained in cage
rose in favour for the Wind and the Fire.
The same narrative,
the same tone ,
the same defendants.
“Holy moly “, my fogged and fevered brain pacified ,
and groaned with immediate anger .
“They told me how Wind and Fire conspired
when I was crying for the Moon
how curses cuddled me in the cradle.
I was kicked.
I was pushed.
I was pulled too.
They giggled ,
they laughed
when I broke into tears
and my heart into pieces !”
Cynical mist, lunatic wind and romantically pleasing fire
broke their silence.
Jagged red corals picked up dead secrets in haste.
Deep water unearthed the facts and the faces.
Cynical mist unveiled the skeleton in the cupboard .
I was running down the lane
with fake faces and fake smiles in my head
who kicked me
pushed me
and pulled my soul.
They giggled and accused the Wind and the Fire.
Dead sky stood calm
but its teary eyes had complaints.
The elderly galaxy lit with shooting stars.
I trusted the wicked
who showered abuse on the lives that
made me a Star, a burning red star.
I finally glowed.
Those who crippled my soul by fake love
dissolved into darkness forever and ever.