Questions.

The question is all about the 'Why?' or may be more accurately about the 'what' and the 'when', Or if asked precisely it can be transformed to a 'who' and then after pondering for a while it will be turned to a 'Polar' question. We never realize why we answer or what we answer, but when we answer is also neglected at times. Are you, your own obstacle? Well I can answer it now, but chose a later date. I can ask Why would I be my own obstacle? or What would I do being my obstacle?, but never think what all I can do by not being an obstacle. I can stand looking in the mirror, figuring out whether I obstruct my own thoughts, or let my feelings be chocked up. I can stand in front of a crowd, and still choke up. So the question finally trickles down to Who am I? Then comes the polar question, Will you let your self free? Its a no or a yes, but its pretty hard to decide, What will I do if I let my self free? Will I fly like a bird, or swim like a fish, or even close run like an animal. I don't have the answers to all of the questions, but if I let my self free, may be, I might fly as a bird, or swim like a fish or run like an animal. Why now? or What now, that I have set my self free, questions again. Brain a cobweb, a platter full of pie. 

Then one day I might wake up from this sleep, 

To see the sun shining bright.

Yet another day I wake up from this sleep,

To see the moon squashing my dreams.

Again the questions, tricky ones, not so tricky ones. Questions to dodge and questions to face. Questions to be responsible about and questions to let go of. Questions to ask your self, questions to ask the one whom you love and finally the questions which will keep you alive, the questions which will get you killed.

I saw a rabbit, white and bright,

Go down the rabbit hole, I followed,

Questions to ask, answers to know,

The rabbit disappeared, just left the hole.

I realized the other day that, rabbits answering all your queries are just mythical creatures, if you follow them without questions, you might see the light at the end of the hole, or the questions might kill the rabbit, leaving you with the hole. 

White horse, grey horse and a black horse,

In a horse market, at a land far across.

Buy one, kill one and let one go free,

Is it the black or the grey that should flee? 

Figure out the when part of the question, an answer two seconds late would've  already lost its taste. So ask and answer now. "Who am I?"

Half Face

....He watched the half painted face on the wall smile...

His eyes opened to a new morning, white lilies on his table,
The bright yellow tint of the morning sun, streamed his mind,
He watched the half painted face on the wall, blinked his eyes.

The nights spoil, spread under his bed, he could feel the heartbeat,
As he stepped aside to his new day, the face on the wall smiled,
The smile turned to laughter, pride his only emotion.

The spider crawled away, as his hands reached in to the depths,
Depths of his unaltered life, the lips parted in half a smile,
Love, he knew was that which changed the face, the half face.

The lily bloomed, a half white silver petal, fading at its root,
Something had changed from the previous night, spiders in his brain,
The red pool that had formed, reflected his evil self, the passion.

He watched the lily fade away, the white turning to pale rust,
He watched her smile fade away, the sunlight fade into darkness,
The spiders crawl back, as he laid her down, under his bed.

Fear Of a Crimson Dream

Wrapped around in a hazy dream, I slip down a pipe hole,
Frozen in fear, as the solitude becomes my nightmare,

Green witch clad in a purple robe, wave your wand, let me free,
As the anger I smoke in, to breath out a crimson cloud of dream.

I walk, leading my path, a burning fire, wobbling in front of me,
I slide to see what is there for me to see, blank spaces with seesaws.

I see her run infront of me, my little guardian angel, who never sleeps,
But today she is drunk, she is drunk with my ingratitude, and solace.

Life played a trick on me, magic is never true, I shout in the streets,
Life played a trick on me, left me to fend for my self, I paint on the walls.

The crimson nights would come, when the dreams would cease,
Then the shades of yesterday would comfort your sleep, as you try to dream.

A unicorn that flies, with the wings of a mighty eagle, pure as white,
Dreams are for those who can sleep, but for me, its the black of the blankness.

Voices

Walking through the meadows, did I hear the cry,
Of a child in pain, A child left alone.
A child is born as one dies,
A child is born as one is lost.
And I did hear voices, voice of the crying child.

The child did grow, As I lost the grip on reality,
Compressed in my dreams did I suffocate.
Stars tickled my senses, as my eyes closed,
Winds became my echo, as I opened to speak,
And I did hear voices, voices taking control.

Who am I, Where was I, The voices did command,
As I lay, feeling the grass beneath,
now a grown man, he stands within me,
now a grown man, he pledges to destroy me,
And I did hear voices, voices as I died.