Ephemeral

Red, soft petals,
a memory now withered.
Fragile, round, thin
slowly dissolves into nothing.
Thats the way life is
thats the way is happiness
Like water that slips
away, between your fingers.
An insane blue bird

looks for a cage to call home,

It lives for a while
Ephemeral it is, not Immortal;
Dying on the wings of time,
A time, that once was.

Russian Roulette

A hand drops the gun to the table,
Another turns it around;
I take a seat to face my enemy
Deep breath before the rounds.

My opponent is a cool one
Fanning with a black fan;
Dares me to pick up the gun
And the fun began.

My opponent knows me through and through
She knows how to incite
The words hit home and I stand
All braced up to fight.

I upturn the glass and set it afire
to shake things up;
Hold the gun to my head
suppressing a hiccup.

Nothing happens
I give a gleeful victorious smile
I pass the gun to my opponent
and mock her back this time.

With almost steady hands
She gracefully, picks it
As if it were some jewel
Adorning the neck of a puppet

Even this time
There is only a click;
The Bullet did not choose her
My breath gets thick.

Blood rushes into my ears
My eyes, head, heart stop
All I can think of now
Is how I can pass the death cup

With steady eyes
I point my gun
Size up my enemy
and fire my Weapon

The bullet races against time
And lodges in the forehead
My enemy slumps in her chair
But I dont move ahead

Through the glass wall
I scream and scream and scream
I watch helplessly as I kill myself;
This is not a dream.

Fiction

That is my notebook
and that is my pen
thats my chair,
and this, is my den.

Those are things accomplished
along with dreams that waver
and these are the things I have to do
Come whatever.

Don't know when, my life
for what did I mistook
I feel as if I am
some character in a book.