Mita Diran

Tilt your head up way up high
See how there's no birds in the sky
The perfect day to bid you goodbye
See how this old canvas paints a vain picture to look at
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If given the chance, then I'd want more
Gimme that pure fat chance
To pocket, to keep
I'd want that talent to play
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Today's one of those days, where I wish I lived in a world where no lines bind a nation, and this planet is one giant park where we could roll down the slopes of China and land in the banks of Cuba.

It's one of those days when you just want to stay at home and be out there at the same time, half in, half out. Like I'm sitting on the edge of my veranda, curled against the softest pillow and my nervous legs are stretched, long enough to soak up the rays of the unyielding sun.
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(Misunderstanding)

It's amazing how foolish young folks can be; young folks like she, heaving high hopes upon her shoulders, never minding how hot that Summer was, never minding those beads of sweat rolling down her neck.
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We fold our clothes and hold our calls
We pack our things in instrument cases
So we could sing with our guitars
A song that's tinted with forgotten faces
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You, let’s sit outside. We’ll watch the stars together, side by side.

I see Orion. Oh, that’s Libra. That’s Ursa Major beneath your eye.
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Send my love to father time
Who robbed my youth
That apparent sleuth
Oh yes, he holds a mighty crime
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Didn't I warn you
About letting strangers inside your nest?
Didn't I tell you
That it's a jungle behind those gates?
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I see colours in the space of time; dancing, vanishing and reappearing. I see the shapes of my current thoughts bubbling up the surface like oil forcing its way through boiling water. What am I thinking. What am I dreaming.

I see the road leading to a fork up ahead. Should I go left, or should I go right. Or should I turn back. Is there anything waiting for me if I go on. What if there isn't. What if I'm lost. Maybe I'm right back at the beginning of the board game, and I need to climb up the ladders and down the snakes before I reach the end.
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She keeps on telling herself she shouldn't worry.

She can't deny, however, that there's a little part in her that grows bigger everyday; waiting, wishing, clinging strongly to that little piece of hope she's seeing. She still hopes for that light in front of her to shine brighter...
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She listens with an open eye
He colours with a different skin
With limbs that tangle, intertwine
They are nothing in between
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She knew where the sun set
Where colours clashed in the sky
Her body moved like logic
Predictable and wise
...