THE OLD BOX

Opened the old box;
Found some dreams
In pieces collected…
Once prized and valued…
…And now rejected.

In the old chest
Found some dreams
Heard old whispers
Drowned in screams
Found “the love”…
Wrapped in an old cloth…
With a faded fragrance
Bearing in silence
The chastising years
Soaked in blood
Dried and brown…
Opened it and the contents…
Were some dreams
Veiled by screams…

ILLUSION

It's a wall with a door painted on it.
You stand before it in all your pride...
You are proud that you will not enter;
but, you can't ever reach this side.
This door that you stand before
is but a wall, and nothing more.

METUS

La ternura corre como niña asustada
entre los caballeros de lanza y espada.
-Rishiraj