Clear blue skies,

lush green trees,

crystal clean lakes,

beautiful butterflies,

colourful flowers,

snow capped mountains,

twinkling stars,

where I can spend hours,

I am already in Heaven.

"Waste me!",
Water tells Us,
And it has the last laugh.

Golden Moon,
Silver Sun
Magic happened.

The door opens.

Plants are still
The hill never moves
But not today.

Night is dead
Sky is dark
But not today,

Pierces right
through its heart
The Moon,
spreads
its silvery sheet
all over.

A stream of music
flows from a distance
smashing the silence

A dancing soul
over the hill
breaks the monotony

The door still remains open.

My spirit takes me forward
in the dreary desert
But my steps resist.

The thorny bushes push upwards
against the yellow sand
the colour green somehow persists.

The wind begins to blow
bringing a haze
yet some clarity exists.

My steps, they resist,
The questions, they persist,
And I, I still do exist.

I am the weirdest person in the world.

Maybe I am one of them.

Maybe everyone is weird in their own way.

Maybe it's tough to live with the weirdness

Maybe the weirdness is the strength

Maybe I think too much

Maybe I do not want to think at all

Maybe...

Sky remains bright and clear,

The Sun's too hot to bear,

a little wind comes as respite,

but sometimes it conquers with all its might,

the arid land still sustains life,

though one of trouble and strife,

Yet the trees grow,

how? only they know,

And here she is,

she goes into abyss,

all dried up to the fore

persevere, she has to some more.