Wilted White Daffodils

It is confusing

This hollow emptiness –

Decaying moods –

And the futile attempt to

Destroy it.

Longing it could be;

Outside the window –

I see plants swaying

to the gentle breeze,

Two soaring doves;

I see the swinging wind chimes;

The closed windows,

Lets nothing inside -

Not the breeze

Nor the gentle music of the chime;

I close my eyes –

The clamor in my head

Is too loud to bear;

My soul brewing in its inner flame

Gnaws at your absence –

Your memories casts a shadow – that

I can’t just brush and leave –

I close my eyes only to see wilted white daffodils;

A meadow of wilted white daffodils –

Such beauty when the thousands of dead wilted white daffodils

Dances to the soundless music of zephyr -

I realize solitude too is bliss.

I open my eyes –

And notice the sky is clear;

I open the windows –

It takes me at once –

The breeze swirls;

Music of the chime pleasant;

Clear sky brings a fleeting smile;

As it reminded me that -

Your ship too will come shore, because

The day is not over, yet!

Solitude

Solitude – a monk’s prayer maybe,
Because with it comes knowing the unseen;
To me it is only deafening silence -
Silence so loud, it ruptures the core of soul;
A great void begins to form,
Leading to the depths of all that is vile;
Confused and desolated –
I hope to break out of this melancholy mood,
To be free once again would mean,
I have to kill the screaming silence else,
I will be dying every day I live.