Trinkets ft. GPT

River

She lay there peaceful, soaking in the sun
Eyes twinkling, as she met my lingering gaze
I stared back unabashed, my journey begun
To know all about her in these coming days.

Our paths entwined, but in different directions
Estranged by a cruel trick of time
While she was all set to end her adventure
I was getting ready to explore mine.

I wished I had met her sooner, gone back in time
When she was full of energy, young and carefree
Been a part of her travels, her stories, her life
Across the mountains, where she first met me.

As I moved further up to bathe in her beauty
Enamoured by movement and song
With basses and trebles over rocks and cliff
Swirling up to compose a symphony
And carrying all in her path along.

I reached the top to see her again,
Gushing in all her glory
Eternal and pure, worthy of divine folklore
I had grown young with her, soaking in a timeless story.

Naked

No one cares, no one watches
They only run their own rat race
With imaginary groups, speeches,
Some numbers on paper pieces
As I try to stand there fully clothed
Forced to keep up to their pace.

Stop, I say. I silently shout inside.
Pause for a minute and breathe.
Listen. Observe the waves around
Don't just go along with the flow
And get deafened, blinded to the core.

I stand adamant, albeit suffocated.
I need to get these clothes off me,
I strip the layers off one by one,
Disrobe, escape this conditioning.

Everyone cares, everyone watches
As I stand there naked, for the world to see.
Slave to routine, the waves ebb and flow
Some move on, some judge and stare
But few break free, join me to devour
This beautiful naked fantasy.

Off come the clothes, out come the sex
We leave them open, let them hang,
Go taste the wind and feel the sand
Crash against the waves, cause turmoil
Break the rhythm, defy the law of the land.

They don't understand, call us mad.
They take offense, beat us up real bad.
Lock us up, try to make us understand.
We wear those clothes again and slave the waves
But always keep an eye out for the others,
For moments to be naked and free.

Storybook

There lived an old storyteller Grimes
At the corner of the road,
I used to go there sometimes
To listen to the stories he told.

He told me tales from before I was born
Weaving words into beautiful prose,
Lives of people known and unknown
And those whom we name heroes.

He had lived in this world as long as can be
Grown with the trees since they were sown,
Partaken in adventures across the sea
And travelled to lands unknown.

Old Grimes always had new stories to share
From his basket of rich experience,
Of wisdom, struggle, passion and care
Never sounding priggish for once.

There came a day old Grimes bid goodbye
Travelling to other worlds unknown,
Leaving behind his stories to remember
And pass on when he was gone.

I have kept them in my basket for now
Some have withered away with time,
And I need to share the rest of it somehow
Because it's part of what I am.

Can't talk at all like he did because
I'm no match for his gripping allure,
You have to read me well to understand
The tales in me, however obscure.

I never knew if they were real or false
But I want the world to learn,
Please take this basket before it's lost
Someone please pass them on.

The Broken Window

I stared back at her face
Judging, thinking, mirroring
Emotions hidden deep in place,
A few peeking through the surface.

She smiled at me daily,
And I returned it in sync
A little weakly, a little lonely,
Topped with a hint of melancholy.

Thus began a well established routine,
Acknowledging her presence every morning
As she looked at her reflection within
What I offered her, pure and pristine.

I felt strong and capable,
Until the day she touched me
Running her fingers, soft but stable
Novelly making me feel vulnerable.

That touch brought about a change,
The reflection a bit different, sundry
And as she saw more in me,
I started developing cracks within.

The day I broke was liberating,
She saw right through me now
Overwhelmed by the majestic view,
With mountains and the valley below.

The breath of pure refreshing air,
Introduced her to the big world out there
Blurring out all the time she spent looking at me,
She packed up her bags and left. 

Rise

Gunshot wound to chest, he fell into the chasm.

The piercing bullet brought back memories
He stared into the sky and found peace
The canvas blue, blank and ready
The fall long, liberating and steady
Gunshot wound to chest, he fell into the chasm.

The mind's brushstrokes painted the sky red
The past pondered as the present bled
Repressed memories some happy, some forlorn
Burnt bridges, dreams drifting, never born
Heavy wound to chest, he fell into the chasm.

The pain he felt was as real as his memories,
Tears dripping from the chest and the eyes
Questions cropped up - the bullet, who and why?
Had he lived enough and did he deserve to die?
Flipping himself midair, he looked towards the chasm.

The canvas changed dreamily dynamic making him smile
The obsolete questions flew away with the wind futile
The pain lessened as the adrenaline rushed in
The future looked beautiful and promising
Heart beating alive in chest, he flew into the chasm.

Fire Flight

Far across the distant horizon,
that tiny speck of light beckoned me.
I wanted to reach out and touch it but couldn't,
these binding chains wouldn't let me free.

I saw the tiny speck growing tinier day by day
as if mocking at me, increasing the distance
and I struggled helpless against the chains,
my weak attempts offering hardly a resistance.

As I began to give up, the tiny speck now hardly visible
my attempts of breaking free now halfhearted and feeble
She approached me grinning, lighting fire to the metal
a scalding hot sensation pierced me, painful and unbearable.

I mustered all my strength, I had to break free
escape the burning metal against my skin,
those very unbreakable chains began to give way
and the invincible metal began to develop cracks within.

As my struggle increased in the agonising frenzy,
the bonds broke setting me free.
I flew towards the distant horizon
trying to cool down my burning wings.

It took a few years for the wounds to completely heal,
as I continued flying towards the tiny speck of light,
the size of the speck had increased a little,
but the distance between us never seemed to end.

My speed faltered, my healed wings relaxed,
I grew complacent enjoying the flight.
The same journey which I previously enjoyed
now seemed a monotonous and boring ride.

She approaced me grinning, lighting fire to my tail,
I cursed her again, don't know what her bloody problem was
lighting fire here and there was not a matter of joke,
I decided I wouldn't let the sadist go unscathed.

I fought with her, as the flames licked my tail,
The flames jumped on her too as we struggled.
I attacked fiercely and watched with joy
as my enemy fell to the ground consumed by those very flames.

The fire on my tail had now increased manifold,
I had to speed up and stretch my limits to the fullest,
to help me return from this life and death scenario;
the flames putting my potential to a test.

It took days of tiring hard work to put the flames to rest
My will to survive urging me on,
As the last of the flames flickered away,
The speck of light seemed less far away.

I continued my journey towards the light for a while,
but slowly and steadily the spark in me died,
I looked back and craved for someone to light the fire,
but alas! I had killed the very being who had taught me to fly.