Sylvia Wakes Me Up!

Wearing a sylvia skin and vision, 

I pitter patter on the island of papers,

Seeing a sea boat, to take me off from this dry shore,

My thoughts brink in the memories of beloved dad ashes,

Seeing my pages drank the morose of my tears.

I left my homeland, and but my heart says I am.

Feeling the brine of people, 

Love is where the heart collages,

Blood fuses, logical axioms crashes,

I saw a bottle of me inside beating for love,

Yes,

I started loving people as a stamp collector love his collection,

From Snow to Belljar, 

All pages ranks over the self realization under me,

I started god asking where is he? 

I still got my answer it was an empty sea.

Nay, I was not a broken piece of rain, 

My childhood was not a coldest landscape to train,

Seeing that sea I rim again and again

Shutting eyes drops the world, lifting it all is born again.

My diary of poems skein again.

Pain, bottle, hope, mountain, salt and thee hughes,

Ramshackled,

Hope turn daisies again