I have a friend whom I follow without a purpose,
We meet, find nothing to talk about, feel being surplus.
She is sweet, loves someone like a row
Yet loved by some other, she doesn't know
I like to watch her as she goes gay and sad
Imagine kissing the red dot on her forehead.
There is a friend who follows me I am seen,
Seems to exist an unknown chord in between
Clots in my blood are of her debt,
But there seems to be nothing right nothing left.
As friends, we move on a long journey
of unknown paths serious sometimes funny.
There is yet another, I behave serious,
As if I know for years without being curious.
She is neat and clean with a world rosy
Feel her close, very loving and cosy
Far apart, no visible paths crossing
Destination unknown, yet we move tossing.
I know I am being chased for a cast
By overtures and shadows of my long past
Of desires, passions, lust, love and hate
Flied high in clouds with belief in fate
Lover's labor lost en-route destined
No hope of revival what once shined.
And that spectacled 'no friend' keeps me behind
Laugh her out, she enters again into my mind
Making me serious sometimes curious
Unable to even know when she is light or serious
Winning the world is her game she plays well
With sharpened arrows hitting the quell.
Since I touched the rhythmic world
Where each word is sharpened like a sword
I feel being invited and welcomed to my home
Which I knew existence of, but bothered not to roam
Social clout is growing with unexpected links
My persona feels growing more of its limbs
To catch up, to embrace the new world around
Of instinct, intuition, rhythm, feels, words and sound
Finding my 4 limbs short for dealing with my new World
To severe any chord, find no courage to use a sword.
Intricated into a web, nothing to do, hence I muse
Nothing for loving, nothing for hatred, nothing to ruse
Just an observer of that all going around per chance
Waiting, hoping someday on its own, come balance.
I have dropped all my intentions into an ocean
Of balance of nature, since nothing I can
Let life goes on like this, there is no harm
Each day, I get a new leg, a new arm
I am floating on pulls and pushes of nature
No desire, no will, no effort, no overture.
Still, I hope of rise-up of someone as my wife
With a lamp in her hands to lead my life
To a heaven of my dreams
Of love and actions, of passions and screams
I am no saint, not a sage
Just ordinary, longing a love-cage