She

When my fire splitting dragon turned into a camel,
she hurled questions, interrogated her worth of existing.
‘how much more? closed doors and confined walls?! when my art will reach out, will swing in the air, will dance like snow flakes?! when?!‘ , shrieked she, with static breaths and burning rage.

when the air called freedom
and the unicorns were decked in glitters,
when i tamed my Pegasus in the back yard,
she counted moments for a break through, in the air, amid’st the snow.

colored canvas, iambic poetry and shining ghungroo
she had it all.
still she has fire in her,
fire of hope and optimism, fire of love and passion.

she keeps her diamond fringed window open,
i gifted her my feathered blue rocket.
she had glimmer in her eyes.
she had dream in her lashes.

in my ugly reality,
i still sit near my mosquito ridden gutter..
with a burning cigar
and weaving metallic dreams for her.

churches and morning prayers are not for me.
i have churches for sinners.
who sinned by believing the reality
for being a coward.

I pray there, for her.
may her dreams turns into fireflies,
phosphorous burning in a darkened darkness.
purge her, so she can rescue some surreal souls, like me.

till then,
i had a ride near the sun..
when my Pegasus fluttered his wings..
and my stinking Ego, melted, melted away..
near the undeniable Sun.