Poetic Justice

Different worlds

I see the world not as you do,
With it's utter and complete simplicity
With mindless words that were taught
And pointless sounds that waver
Around,
For no purpose but enlightenment.

No,
I see a world,
That's sunset will never meet it's
Sunrise.
The bitter sweet sight,
Of two never meeting one another,
So similar in their ordeal,
So same in their sights,

Perhaps they would have been
Friends,
If they ever got the chance to meet,
To even catch a glimpse of one
Another.

I don't see a candle that lights up a
Dark room,
No,
I see a dark room that censors a
Candle.
That wraps the light in it's darkness,
Refusing to share the beauty of it's
Only hope in it's cloud of never
Ending shadows.

I don't see something as simple,
As a field of flowers,
I see a hundred of sunflowers,
Tilting their heads to the right,
But my eyes,
Catches the only one who's head,
Is rebelled to the left.
So beautiful in it's difference,
So perfect in it's nonconformity.

I see not a moon and stars at night,
And a sun and clouds at day.
I see a story,
As old as time,
The tale of the moon and the sun,
As lost lovers,
Who will never get the chance to
Meet.

But see,
They do meet,
Just as the sun goes up,
And the moon goes down.
One day,
They fell hopelessly for one another,
But they knew they could never,
Be together.
So the sun tore a part of herself,
And sprinkled it next to the moon,
Into the night sky, as the stars we see
Today,
So that the moon may never be alone
In complete darkness.
And the moon, when you see him in
Half,
Know that when you see the clouds,
So tenderly kissing the sun,
It is the moon that offered himself
As dew to her mid.

When I see a fire,
Protruding from left to right,
My first reaction is not fear,
Instead I see a flicker of brightness.
I see a soft flame,
That has grown into all that he is,
And is beautiful in his fiery heart.

The birds don't just sing the same
Old hymn in my ears.
I hear their stories,
Their stories of expedition,
As they travelled around the world,
To explore places,
I ache in the depths of my tender Heart
To explore some day.

I cling onto their hopeful notes,
Of how much beauty they saw,
How it felt to have the same wings
Flutter over two different skies.
They tell me stories of the people,
And the strange smells.

Perhaps we live in different worlds,
Is what you think to yourself.
But I don't think that's true,
I choose to believe,
We see the same world,
But through different eyes.

                               ~n.s