The Unlikely Buddha

 Let me take you on a magic carpet ride No silken carpet, stitched by hands unknown, But woven moonlight on a phoenix's down. With whispers of magic, we'll ascend the sky, Where stars like diamonds dance and planets sigh. Through emerald valleys, where dragons sleep, And crystal rivers secrets keep. On winds of laughter, past castles untold, With stories blooming, braver than gold. We'll chase shooting stars across the night, Their fiery whispers our guiding light. Past hidden waterfalls, where sirens sing, And wishes take flight on gossamer wing. No jeweled palace, but a moonlit bower, Where fireflies light each fragrant flower. With hearts entwined, beneath the Milky Way, We'll write our own love story, come what may. This magic we create, unseen, unheard, A tapestry woven with every shared word. So let us dance on stardust, wild and free, For the truest magic lies in you and me. With brushes dipped in dreams, we'll paint the sky, Our souls entwined, as colors dan...

  The words fall like shattered glass, each syllable a fragment of your heart laid bare. Dreams, whispered into the void, met with polite smiles that hold no echoes of your own yearning. Fears, confessed in the quiet moments, dissolve into the air, leaving only the hollowness of silence. You, a tapestry woven with threads of vulnerability, hang opposite a blank canvas, reflecting back only your own loneliness. The serpent of isolation coils tighter, its scales cold against your skin. You poured your essence into a well that held only dust, each shared detail, each unreturned confidence chipping away at the foundation of your hope. The realization cuts like a shard of ice, a truth as undeniable as the emptiness you feel. This was a solo performance, a song sung into the wind, its melody lost in the vast indifference. No embers of self-discovery flicker in the darkness. The tapestry remains unfinished, its threads trailing off into the abyss. The echoes of loneliness morph into a c...

The sunbeam shifted, painting a different corner of the worn rug, but Grumpus Maximus remained a motionless shadow, his familiar grumbles silent. My calloused hand brushed his fur, once thick and luxurious, now thin and brittle with age. No response, no indignant flick of the tail, no disgruntled purr. Just the stillness of a life snuffed out, leaving behind a void as vast as the galaxy above. Grumpus Maximus. The name itself, a testament to his personality. Not a cuddly lap cat, but a grumpy emperor, ruling his sunbeam dominion with disdainful stares and the occasional swat. A constant, a furry companion who filled the quiet of my days with his unique brand of grumpy presence. He wasn't much for words, this feline curmudgeon. But his silence spoke volumes. A flick of the tail meant annoyance, a slow blink, grudging affection. He'd bat at my slippers, a silent protest against my shuffling gait, and I'd pretend to be startled, just to see his indignant puff of fur. He was a ...

Once I believed in Cassandra A psychic whose words were profound She built my hopes up with prospects of love But love did not come around Then I put faith in Aurora Her reputation was sound Now I'm here wondering where my money went The crystal ball let me down In my daydreams I fall in love My search is through They're just daydreams Prophets say will soon come true Where is love Where is the mystery girl I've always dreamed of Where is love Someone somewhere has an answer Tell me where is love Can't help but think of Aladdin A myth only children believe Maybe his lamp has the power enough To send a lover to me In my daydreams I fall in love My search is through They're just daydreams Prophets say will soon come true Where is love Where is the mystery girl I've always dreamed of Where is love Someone somewhere has an answer Tell me where is love? 

 The moon, a pearl upon the velvet night,  Waxing gibbous, casts a silver light.  Night descends, a hush falls on the land,  Secrets whisper, mysteries at hand. Will the fairies dance, with wings of gossamer fine, Underneath the moon, a shimmering line?  In meadows bathed in lunar glow,  They pirouette and dip, a silent show. Their laughter tinkles, like wind chimes in the breeze,  As they chase fireflies through the rustling trees.  Mushrooms glow, their lanterns in the dark,  Guiding tiny steps, leaving not a mark. On lily pads they float, like boats of jade,  Singing songs of starlight, serenades  To slumbering flowers, dreaming dreams unseen, In this realm of moonlight, where fairies convene. But watch with caution, for they flit and they hide,  These creatures of magic, in moonbeams they confide.  A glimpse of their beauty, a whisper of their song,  Is all a mortal glimpses, ere they vanish long. So close your ey...

  Beneath the vaulted halls of night, where shadows dance in silent grace, A symphony of sandalwood unfolds, a haunting perfume in this space. Here, dreams lie fallow, whispers dim, on beds of longing, unmade still, A tapestry of might-have-beens, where questions echo, cold and chill. For who, in this vast, indifferent void, can answer cries that pierce the dark? No deity descends with solace, no whispered truth to leave its mark. The heavens, draped in velvet black, offer no solace, no reply, Just endless silence, echoing back, "Why ask, if answers ever die?" Perhaps the universe, a tapestry, woven with threads of chance and whim, Offers no grand design, no purpose, just the dance of atoms, cold and grim. Are we but specks upon its face, adrift in currents we can't control, Doomed to ask and never know, whispers lost in an endless scroll? Or maybe, in the depths of self, a flicker of defiance burns, A spark that dares to question fate, a yearning for what life...

 In sterile white, beneath the hum of light,  He lies entwined, a shell of fading might.  Each labored breath, a question on his lips,  Of deeds well done, or sins on soul's eclipse. He searches deep, through memories' dusty halls,  For moments bright, where kindness held its calls.  A helping hand, a smile that warmed the day,  A child's delight, a debt he chose to pay. But shadows creep, insidious and bold,  Whispering wrongs, tales left untold.  Harsh words that stung, a trust he did betray,  The path not taken, lost along the way. The scales he builds, they tremble, precariously placed, Good deeds in one, by darker counterfaced.  His heart, a battlefield, where angels war with fiends, Heaven's promise fading, as the torment ascends. "Will forgiveness find me, in this fading hour?"  He cries, a silent plea, devoid of power.  Will pearly gates unfold, or flames engulf his fate?  An answer sought, yet sealed by cruel...