Never so late, but late


no countenance of penitence

for the arrows released,

I wanted, I lived

thus I seized


but countenance of penitence

for the arrows withheld,

straining the quiver

as fears swelled


for countenance of complacence

see the stance of a valiant, but

with bowstring slackened

& vision senescent


time is fleeting,

hence the aim

evanescent  . . . . . . . . . .


©Written Frames, 2018

Another day


Squinting eyes upon you

As you quieten under the curtail so heavy and dark

Aspiration of first rays to greet me

Knock at my closed doors

To kiss me through the crevices of time so gone

Oh perhaps! soldered around me is an unseen wall, held you unmoved

My delusional comfort with night prolongs this life of lies

I could not listen you say

Wake up… wake up now….


Eyes prostrating upon you

Your arms bloom to clench the wide skies

You blink in approval to my wishful cry

Dance of fire in between the silence of smothered and a chaotic heart

To weave a victory from thread of dreams of endeavor

You smolder a spark that puts within

So a duel with the encrusting twilight provoked

Wake up… you wake up now….


Another day is gone

Flourishing this drought in eyes so bled on your farewell

The usual knocks answered with silence


I didn’t wake up

O I just didn’t


©Written Frames, 2018