Words Again

My words left me

without showing any courtesy.

When unrefined words

tried to be poetry,

The Painted Forms

Colored Shapes Fill The Canavass

As Terrifying Forms.

Drawn, All in Mixed Colors,

Whenever tried to beautify them,

Devils Kept on dripping down the brush.

Who makes the world weird

Hidding behind the colors?

Are colors the Successors or representatives

of some terrible truth?

I kept the brush washed

to keep my life from getting colored.

Are human emotions green?

Is nature Green?

Is nature's green also guise?

could easily detect empty emotions on the painted faces.

Let's not color the picture of life.

On the canavass, invisible forms of voidness

blossomed.

It is always risky to seek the soul

That throws away the mask

The risk of enjoyable emotions

singular

Body's Plural

Mind's also Plural

World's plural

Language Is Plural

Name Is Plural

When,

Minds Leaves the body,

Words leave the poem,

sky leaves the cloud,

Flowers Leaves the tree,

to be free,

The Singular Me is born.

poems-painted forms

Are Human Emotions Green?
Is Nature Green?
Is Nature's Green Also a guise?