• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 07


The deep cerulean waves carrying you in the wild blues yonder
riding on the slithering wave
My handsome rider on a serpent’s back
skies pitted with the souls of the elders

Those who guide us and lit our paths like a shining beacon
waves lapping the pain in my heart winds singing the lullaby
as a tourniquet to my broken heart—
Seeded with deary desires to see your face but once

As you ride the warm air with the grace of kings
as you travel to the destination unknown
air is suffused with warm scent of pink frangipanis
leaving the trail of perfume to warm my heart for nights so many

Destined to find moist soil of future that will reap the
fruits of our labor,
Dreams birthing through our calloused hands
Painted with silver dust for the kingdom to come

As I stand beside you to see the crimson visage
a bowlful of questions pitted in my soft eyes—
to hear the last traces of your stentorian voice
as it warms every corner of my soul

A parting gift for our wounds,
a tourniquet for my bleeding whole.