A mysterious Tryst

Open eyed a story unfolded around
I saw a man with struggling ropes bound
On a chair with a bomb ticking
Around him were creatures dancing
Like snakes their bodies were slithering
It was dark and smoky
A shivering up the body
And then came a maiden clad in white
Her face unclear as the smoke filled his sight
She came and touched his shoulders letting him free
As the ropes came off she let out a gurgle carefree
Touching his face with her white cold hand
She let her eyelashes touch his wedding band
A single teardrop touched his cheek


And then she was gone into the mist
As the sun came to end this mysterious tryst.

Song Of A Night Bird

The night bird goes on and on with its song.
Through the day,and all night long.
Its a black bird they say.
But they can't be sure,there is no way.
For the night bird is elusive of its own choice.
Very few people really get to hear its voice.
It sings of its pleasure to the full white moon.
Hoping to meet one of its own very soon.
For you see,the moon is its dear friend.
The moon knows its story till the very end.
The night bird told its story in a song.
Singing through the night and all day long.
Hopping from tree to tree,twig to twig.
The darkness surrounding it is so so big.
But the moon is white,an ethereal glow.
In its light,the bird's true colors show.
And lo behold, it is midnight black no more!
Its like the lustrous pearl picked from the sandy shore.
They had never seen it in its own true form.
And that's cause superficiality was the accepted norm.
But they could have seen it in its white-speckled eyes.
Eyes are the true mirror of the soul;it tells no lies.
But its song talked of pure beauty like no other,
Then why 'o why didnt the others bother?
But of course it sang its song to the moon and noone else.
Who had the power to penetrate a darkness so dense?
It is waiting for the moon to pass a message.
One that will give it immortal passage.
One that says its time to carry on.
When phoenix colors it will surely don.
But till then you can surely try,
To catch a fleeting glimpse as it flies bye.
You can still hear the night bird's sighs.
You can even hear the flap of wings as it flies.
But it's song it sings to none but the moon.
And you aint gonna hear the song anytime soon ! !