THE PULSES OF PAIN

I fantasized an eternal love
which a demon of hell impotent
which a mortal-demise unables
to detach, to unbind ,to depart.


Am hapless of this piss-ups
the weensy boozups ,that teams out mine eyeball.
I tore up mine shower  which could  
out wept  all the downpours 
 that shot to this earth.

I wonder the pip of mine eyeball
over bears a saline-sink
which when withers sprouts a flavour
of voiceless grave and a savour of heartbearing.

I repelled mightly to defy the pain
which florets the drops of tears .
Myself i ascertained the spirit sensing the pulses of pain.

TYNDAL EFFECT

Oh ! Tyndal effect
Where are you coming from ?
Are you the herald from the sun.
To the leafty of the tree.
Who whisper among them.
The whisper of silence.

And to the flower bed
who glowingly glows brightly
with a smile....
The symbolic of happiness.
After your arrival
a guest of day to day.

And even to the webs of spider.
A web of loaf,
softy and moisturey.
Who sways and glows
with seven colours.

Like a rainbow by your beam.
Spider awaits you
early in the forenoon.
To make their net bright particular star.

I can see a number of particles
moving and swaying randomely.
Is it the particles that are
a natural talent from the sun ?

When a blame arises,all are onto that
no matter how silly it it.........but
when a praise rises, all needs it to 
be a hidden truth.....
Someday ....somewhere.....sometime
somebody.....its all a belief to 
make some hope.....
when the "S" word turns out to nothing
serial emotions awakes....
Neither i need an elopness...
or an end to the cruel glee......
God must be crazy at the me side....
the golden glee turns to a
Shepherd shadow.
Some are destinied  to the glowest...
but the minor in me mours merely...
Why do that episode repeats
brutaly........
Where does the life flakes the 
season...the flesh fucks the failure..
Days are brick red..
Nights are black holed....
An escape at the triangled barmuda ..
Ooo , Alas.....gravity..hails you.......

Seasons pass by ,the time a witneser
the earth takes its chances.
The stage show unends ever after.
The morn blooms a root.The rain clears
 the meadows to a green sheid.
The departing leaves tears , the 
tree symbolises an odd figure.
The browny leaves running the deadsea.
Fragrances spring rainbow coloured
flowers.The spring season sprouts
strange smells to the organ living.
The water searches the hideouts.
They knew the struggling land on
summer, a vain,the sun a zero math.

THE DIVINE CLOUDS

The misty clouds of night
shivers the bitter, for it
knews the strange mysteries of midnight.
When the sunbeams strikes the sandland
they disappears to nothing.

It floats through the valleylands
spreading a river white 
at the midst of a green valley.
It makes a huge unending 
comet-like line and suddenly disappears.

The land clouds similiars the sky clouds.
At the 12 strucked night ,it 
the land ,spying the marooned land.
Reveals the green hide outs.
Promises them ,a downpour from sky.

For it ,the clouds nurtures them.
The divinity of land claimed
its scared symbol.
The divine clouds smokes the land
smells them divine earthhood.

THE RAIN THAT RAINED

A desertified mind awaiting a break
to refresh the lodged nasty memories.
Aye . the rain renews the lodgement.
The magic it spells laser cuts 
even the unclassed locks of memories.

When it rains ,earth smells are spread
recognizing the birth time rites.
The rain rains a flash flood
a console to the solitary souls.

Why do the rain unbears a shadow figure
ever thinked before ,the why ?
The white warming shadow figure 
it bears wipesout even the odourless ,
unloaded ,unboltted flaming flashbacks.

The rain arts a mirror which
roams across the green vallies
amidst the rifts and cliffs
a searcher of the wails of cracked droughts
and shuts the rocked droughts to wetness.

The rain smelts the green ironies.
It blooms the emerald buds hereby
cracking a floral design and a 
thirst sucker of the fauna.

   

EARTH AT ITS RED ZONE

Holes mentioned on the sky ,
         the ' BLACK HOLE '
Cracks described on the land ,
         the ' DROUGHTS '
They are the red marks bolded ,
         on the EARTH MAP.....
HUMANS are only a mere
googlers to the  circumstances.....

I can ROMANCE to pureness when my being was taken care by an EYE of a '  MASCULIN  '