Saturday, 8 September 2012


I was born a gypsy, I believe.
One day at a time I live.
Magical, mysterious and colours I like
Of institution, security and certainty I cry

I was born a gypsy, you see.
My future unsteady and unseen.
The road is my home where i run free
Responsibilities and duties not my thing.

I was born a gypsy, I know.
Took pleasure in all the little unknowns.
No single place to call my own.
My spirit is unleashed and free.

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

The Final Night

A few minutes left before sunrise. A few minutes to reflect what went wrong. Her life draining away slowly as her blood leaves her body.  The three deep slits at her wrist fulfilling her purpose. She felt dizzy but awake. More awake then what she felt in months.

Her life was happy once upon a time. But she didn’t remember why she was happy anymore. Her eyes wandering at the night sky, the half moon and the twinkling star. The huge garden with it’s pretty flowers watching her silently. There she lay by the grass, her red hair and her red gown glowing in the moonlight.

At least I made the right choice in choosing where i die, she thought. Though it doesn’t matter to her where and how she die. It was a joke she once made to her best friend long time ago when she was young and happy, when the world made sense and living was fun. Twisted joke of teenagers about where they prefer to die if given the choice. It’s only fitting that she lay there now, she thought.

source: google

The pool of blood soaked under the soil. The silence. She felt relieved. No more nonsense, no more pretence, no more expectations, no more. She closed her eyes and entered into a dream. Slowly moving to a different realm.