Searching-Sky

Our minds are spiders Walking on water, afraid to break the surface tension One misstep and we could drown In the unexpected depths of shallow self. No one marks the passage of the spider Save for the spider alone. Grimly, spider works on eight sturdy legs Weaving a web, each thread, a memory Each memory crossing, line by line. Some tattered and torn, No one marks the passage of the spider Save for the spider alone.

Ice cold shiver. Frozen, heart break Breathe... Wonder Why? Questions unanswered. Prayers, lips of sinners. Kneeling, supplication, forgiveness. Soul Free Flying Never again.

 The moon hung low behind the clouds. A woman, no more than twenty years stood beneath it. Her eyes grey were dark and piercing as she stared upwards. First, at the sky and then at the building. The lights were off, all except one. The woman smirked and closed her eyes. Drawing a deep breath, the air, clean and crisp, filled her lungs. It was now or never. Looking around, making sure nobody was watching, she ran up the stairs of the building. She opened the door, walking quickly down the corridor. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sound of her boots on the hard tile. Her thoughts echoed in her head. "Damn it, I should have worn flats." To

My mom used to tell me that every child is born with a dream inside it. She used to tell me that nobody, nobody at all could take that dream away.  I never really understood what she meant by that, at least not when I was younger. Time passes and we grow older. Still, the question remains. How is it possible that every child on this earth has a dream inside it? Who puts it there? How do we know what dream we have? How do we fulfill this dream? Questions and answers I still do not have. Maybe I never will know. Maybe the answer is so complex that we are not meant to figure it out and maybe just maybe we already have the answers. Did anybody e

It's been years but I still remember her. Remember how she used to come and sit on the tracks for hours at a time. The trains had long stopped running but still she came and she sat and stared. I used to wonder what she was staring at. So still and silent. She never knew I watched her and even if she did, I don't think she cared. She was a poor girl, a lonely girl, rags for clothes, and a dirty face. This girl though, she had a dream. She had a dream just as every other person in this world has a dream. And as she sat and stared off in the distance, she would dream her dream. Often, voicing it aloud and only I heard. I knew her dream, knew w