If i would meet a Genie
On a parched and dusty road,
Found down upon his luck
With wishes to be sold.
Well,
Just one,
If truth be told.
Rattling around the lamp
Unkempt, rusted, and old.

I would trade all my tomorrows
To take away your pain and sorrow.

So I turn out all my pockets,
Gifts of silver, lint and gold.
Promises of future earnings
Whatever I shall own.
Offers of the occult.
Blood, shadow and bone.
The sum of all my dreams,
The deed to my rugged soul.

I feel like I'm stuck in a world full of strangers.
Invisible to everyone I meet,
Visible to everyone I haven't met.
Living in a land, somewhere in between,
waiting to return.

I crave for that familiar connection.
You know it all too well,
that instantaneous, gravity defying,
tear inducing, stomach turning,
gasping for air like someone has stolen your lungs,
smile for no reason,
the fuse being lit for that
spark
of a connection.

But yet when I make myself visible,
make myself vulnerable,
lay myself open,
as if I were on the operating table,
It's still not enough.
Even ripped open, I seem to find no cable of spark,
no artery or vein of connection.

Yet I am hopeful that someone will come along,
and take up residency,
put the gloves on and pick up the scalpel,
and transplant themselves into my soul,
return me from limbo,
and give me a way out.

Perhaps then,
I won’t be
stuck in a world full of strangers.

In quiet waters, lilies bloom,
Soft as silk, yet filled with gloom.
Their petals bright, a moonlit crest,
A whispered tale of hearts undressed

They rise from depths so dark, so deep,
Yet stand with grace, no need to weep.
Their fragrance lingers, light yet strong,
A melody both fierce and long

Like women through the trials past,
They bend but never break their mast.
Through storms and sun, they bloom anew,
Their strength unseen, but always true

Each petal holds a tale untold,
Of love, of loss, of dreams grown old.
Yet in their veins, the light remains,
A beauty born from joy and pain

So let the lilies teach the world,
Of softness, steel, and dreams unfurled.
For in their grace, a truth we see—
Women bloom in dignity


Erennwrites