I gave it a try
I wrote my heart
in a piece of paper and I wrapped
in red ribbon it was tied
In a bottle it went down
But my bottle never crossed
the sea, it didn't meet the She
My heart was to heavy
even in words
that it drown
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Truly Amazing...
I want to be a poem
where reciting is easy
butterflies pop from a box
and each one is seen and heard
every corner of the World
Written by Muniza Master
My feathered instrument
will paint love with different
colour of the wind,
like a bird's song that polish dusk
into a peaceful horizon,
I speak the dialect of the night
I speak the dialect of dawn.
There is no malice,
no attention to adonis,
the celestial bureaucracy
is occupied.
and my soul on its odyssey.
Caught between
the busy heaven,
and the noisy earth
my soul is isolated.
where do I run to ?
when my soul is at the mercy
of those who read.
If the moon ever wrote back,
It would write in the movement of the wind,
It will speak in whispers
that makes the trees dance spritely
of slow and patient light.
Its script would be the patient and kind,
if the moon ever wrote back,
it would be calm and steady full of grace.
My good news was meant to be a journey to the land of....those resting,
expecting roses, after the trials and testing.
And my bad news is I'm still living,
always present in their pity,
Yes I am a poet, I might be insane but I live in lucidity