Maple Tree

There was a fountain in my garden,
Carved with markings of birth,
Of death, of red and yellow crayons,
Of those isolated, alone memories,
Me hiding behind the maple tree,
Far, far away from my brothers,
Vision and screams,
Scaring him like I always did,
He jumping, crying, clinging to me,
I ruffling his hair, holding to him,
Wiping his tears, smiling at him,
Carrying him to the branch of,
The never ending maple tree,
Overlooking the snow covered peaks,
Sun burning fire on our faces,
Colliding from every sun colored,
Leaf of the maple tree,
I holding is hand in a reassuring grip,
Walking towards the now frozen,
Black Sand River, adapting the nature,
Of its snow covered surroundings,
Me freeing my grip for a second,
Picking up a black shimmering stone,
Gleaming, reflecting, hiding beneath,
Watching my brother, now a blur,
Walking on the white surface of,
The Now flowing river beneath,
Cracking under the weight of new skin,
His once blurred shadow,
Now slipping away from me,
Officials never found his body again,
His soul now a part of the black sand river,
Lost within the depths,
Of my blurred vision and his silent screams,
I still occupy the branch of the maple tree,
Overlooking the green mountains beneath,
I hold an imaginary hand somewhere,
Reassuring my grip again,
My brother,
You will be always safe with me.

A Bridge Within

Two lovers apart, a river in between,
Came every day at the peak of,
The broken golden bridge,
Never uttered a single word,
No wave of hands to greet,
Mesmerized in each other’s eyes,
Resurrecting an imaginary bridge,
To fill the distance in between,
Traversed on that bridge of illusion,
To feel each other’s souls from within,
That touches of imagination,
That caressing of the illuminating skin,
Fluttering wings of the two hearts,
Mended the broken bridge,
Only a minute of solitude each day,
Only a minute of conversation,
Through eyes each day,
Kept the love flowing,
Within each of their veins,
Ray of sun strikes the surface,
Of the ever calm yet ferocious river,
And reaches the bottom with grace,
Shimmering like the wings of an angel,
Covered their faces like an eclipse,
With the ever shining glow of the day,
Love lived young and grew old together,
Within the eyes of the two lovers,
Bridge still remains closed and broken,
Shadows of the two souls standing at the peak,
Still remain the same,
No physical closure,
No touch of the two surfaces,
Two souls became one single bridge,
Love was given birth that day.

55 Fiction By Heavealie:Highway 45

I saw a vision last night.

In it I died in a car accident at highway45.

Before dying my wristwatch read 4:45 a.m.

Tuesday.

I’m standing at highway45.

Cars are zooming past inches from me.

My wristwatch reads 4:45 a.m.

4:46 a.m.

Ohh god I’m alive.

4:46:45.

Ordinary Love

Shape me like a crammed corner,
In your heart, tampered,
With emotions of my love,
Lost in the continuous flow,
Of your ever gasping breathe,
Wretched pieces of my well being,
Formation of a perfect soul for you,
I am a tampered soul my love,
Need to break apart like an atom,
To emerge as an ever glowing sun for you,
My opinion for myself overflowed,
From the brim of my ever flowing life,
It overshadowed, disrupted, vaporized,
In front of your face my love,
I need to savor this moment,
Like a man falling from the highest point,
I whimper, scatter, I look small,
In front of you my love,
Even though I’m way taller,
I need to bend on my knees,
Dragging my shadow down with me,
To judge myself in front of you my love,
I’m just an ordinary human being,
I need to create a nuclear of love,
In comparison to your love for me,
To emerge as an extraordinary human,
In front of you my love,
I keep my eyes wide open while you sleep,
In fear that you don’t disappear in thin air,
My love I don’t know how I will survive,
Without you,
I’m just an ordinary human being,
I pale, crumble, disengage,
I breathe in you my love.

I Rescuing My Love

Sliding curvaceous moves for me,

I see you gliding down the stairs,

With a pair of eyes rhyming,

Gleaming, shining, moving through me,

Me trying to catch my balance,

Took hold of something,

Glinting, shimmering pyramid of glasses,

Toppling, tumbling at our feet,

Me fixed in trance somewhere in between,

Reality and beauty like a golden seam,

Shards of glasses thousands of scenes,

She magnifies, reflects in every piece,

Every single human being present on the scene,

Is in love with the one who was meant for me,

Silence and awe, sudden wreck and havoc,

Every single hand grabbing to seize her from me,

I took her in my arms crashing the doors,

We were free,

Racing for the boat near the river,

We jumped the crease,

Hands outstretched everywhere,

Trying to catch hold off she,

Angry shouts and cries behind us,

Some falling into the river in between,

Outlined, sketched moon in the scene,

This is how I rescued my beloved,

From the love hungry human beings.

A Clockwork Of Tragedies

Stage 1: Tragedy-series of events

World renowned owner of tragedies,
Is in town to complete the chain,
Of events filling the space between,
Oddly the town is vacant,
Not the medium to provide uncertainties,
Pursuing another path, another town,
Walks the uncharted territory,
With the hope of unlimited catastrophes,
Standing on the threshold of opportunities,
Thirst for an uneventful night,
Blurs his mind, reluctance awakens within,
What if nothing happens?
Walk this unholy earth no cries and screams,
He needs one more tragedy,
Otherwise his heart beat would seize.


Stage 2: Tragedy-obsession

Life begins with uncertainty,
With situations and tragedies,
In the beginning,
Breaks a person from within,
Slowly the series of tragedies,
Becomes a certainty,
Obsession emerges,
Engulfing the events within,
That taste of tragedies,
That thirst for uncertainty,
That pain overpowering the mind,
Asks for more, asks for thrills,
He needs a tragedy in his life,
Every once in a while,
To keep his life ticking,
Tick, tick, tick.

A life full of tragedies slowly turns into an obsession. A person whose life is filled with tragedies from the beginning needs a tragedy every once in a while to keep the clock ticking. Pain suffered for a long time becomes habitual and slowly like a heart beat that thrill for pain turns into necessity. A series of tragedies provides that thrill that heart beat to the uneventful life. Keeps the obsession of a person ticking.Tick,Tick,Tick.


Stages of tragedy turning into obsession:

1. Beginning of life.
2. The very first tragedy.
3. face to face with reality.
4. Pain.
5. Series of tragedies.
6. Acquaintance to pain.
7. Obsessed with pain.
8. Thrill of pain.
9. Obsessed with tragedies.
10. Pain as a necessity.
11. Keeps the clock ticking.

Tick, Tick, Tick.