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Narrative

Dust

Baby Kai

When the memory comes crawling back,
my hands tremble uncontrollably from guilt.
I blame them,
for not holding on to my mother tighter.
I remember her smile,
she was so beautiful.
She would always cradle me
as I listen to her heart sing.
When ever she would wrap her loving arms around me,
I felt secure.
She’d kiss me by the cheek and announce,
I’m her precious Baby Kai.
I miss her,
terribly.
That is why I still search for her.
Everyday
and every waking moment.
The dust storm tore us apart,
separated out hands.
To the point where she was driven away from me
by the wind.
I still remember her blood shot eyes
from her pouring tears.
I scream out for her,
but the wind suffocates me,
and I cry.
Only the voices of the wind were heard.


Outlook

Aside from my mother
I am seeking for a place,
where my vision is not only gray,
where the sky is painted blue.
As I look up at the sky,
I ask myself,
“Does it seem blurry to you?
Or have you lost sight of everything?”
I know the answer,
I just can’t bring myself to answer it.
Even so,
I neither look upward nor downward,
but forward.
My feet wonders for a clean path.
I walk through the sands of time.
Yet my foot prints have been erased.
The ground feels hot,
like someone breathing hot air below me.
I fall next to a branch sticking
out of the dust.
I close my eyes and hope to dream
in the middle of the whirl pool of dust,
as it slaps my rosy cheeks.


Time

A flash back of memories struck me that night
while I lay on the clouds of dust.
I recall a time where the flowers would bloom,
a time where water was pure,
a time where happiness was not a fantasy.
Everything was pleasing to the eye,
and delicious to the mouth.
As wheat sprouted throughout the grounds,
dust was no where to be found.
Vast lands were concealed with beauty.
Children were scattered among the playgrounds.
While parents stood by their children
smiling down at them.
Laughter filled the air,
until the depression of the days took place.
Lands were cursed with devouring shadows.
Where the wind revealed the depressing character of the land.
The mouth was engulfed by bitterness and acridness.
Each individual eye witnessed and felt the sorrow the wind blew in.
Blessings were not acknowledged.
Nothing but somberness was introduced.
Till now,
things are no better than before.
Even so,
I believe there is a given time where everyone will smile.
A time,
where the wind will cast the shadows out of man.


Teddy Bear

The dust screams constantly
and the wind hisses at my ears.
I walk alone in the dark.
Stabbing speckles of dust scratch my bare feet
through the unknown oceans of dust.
My eyes flicker from the harsh wind.
I don’t know where I’m headed,
but only to the direction where mother
was drifted away.
As the sun rises up and flashes the windows of my eyes,
my vision becomes less accurate.
Gasping for air,
I spotted a strange figure at the very corner of my eye.
Running towards it,
my eyes prepare themselves for the up coming reaction.
Bending down,
I could feel my hammering heart beat.
It had the figure of a human baby,
but much smaller than me.
Praying it wasn’t so,
I began brushing the legs.
It felt soft like fur.
For a second I felt at ease
as the soft touch of it melted my hands.
The warm sensation didn’t last long.
My eyes widened to the point where the white of my eyes were fully exposed.
Similar to the eyes of soldiers.
I felt the tear fall down
as I saw the sowed words on the palm of its foot.
Baby Kai.
Slowly pulling the leg,
I hoped I was not delusional.
Of all the chances of the universe,
I found the teddy bear my mother made me.
Clutching it tightly against my chest, I began to cry.
It’s my only company,
aside from the dust.


The Death Of Her

There’s a scent of blood.
My hands feel wet.
Dropping the bear I stare at my third palm.
Confused and astounded,
“Since when did I have three hands?”
Looking down,
I saw a track of skin below the dust.
Scared,
I wipe the dust away.
Only to find out,
it was the arm of my mother.
I could not bare the sight.
Darts drilled through my heart.
Her flesh sunk in,
where her bones were exposed on some parts of her face.
There were holes dug on her neck.
Dust has eaten her up.
Is death this terrifying?
I could imagine the dust
helping her rot away.
Slowly peeling the life out of her.
Stripping her soul to spreads.
She’s empty,
even though I see her heart.
Dust has caved in her.
Was she even given a chance to cry?
Or were her tears immediately dried off?
At that moment I realized,
death could be harsh.
I envy the elders who died in their sleep.
They experienced no pain,
but only breathed their last breathe into this world.
While my mother
was treated like worthless fragments.


Tears Of Wax

Two dark sides outlines my existence.
My shadow
that reminds me of all the things I did wrong,
and the dust as my torture stake.
Is there an artist who can find forgiveness to carve me correctly?
Is there a savior who can guide me in the right path?
There’s a growing part of me
that’s giving in.
My tears fall
and no one is there to wipe them away.
Every tear that fills me
is like all the cuts and burns that mark me.
Toxic air is what I breathe.
Acid tears are what I cry
that sinks in me heart like plastic.
There’s a sudden whisper driven by the wind,
which strikes down every heart on its path.
Collapsing on the dust of dawn,
I close my eyes and with my shaken voice,
I cry out,
“Take me away.”
I lay there
beside her
waiting for my last breath
to be blown away,
like a candle.











__________________________________________________________________________________

 Memories

Even if the dust and wind scar you,
there is always time to heal.
Just close your eyes and blow the dust away from your image.
Let the wind not be the one taunting you.
Open your ears and let the wind sing to you.
Divine is brought out from the work of your hands.
Where beauty is defined.
A pity it would be left deaf and hidden.
Like the seed of a flower,
let it grow and become the strong stem that holds you up.
As if everything that existed before
became only a thing of the past.
There is no harm or penalty on trying to revive them.
The lose of your mother has done great suffering.
Your father is alive, but treated dead.
Find the passage and gateway
to open the hidden secrets that lay shaken and untold.
Don’t lose you father.
Forget all the wrongs that was done; remember what she left behind.
The reasons why she’s missed.
Make the memories not a stabbing to your heart,
but like a gentle kiss.
Like a stronghold, protect and hold fast to all the pleasant memories
of your beloved mother.
Thought it seems like everything will come to an end.
Endings start a new beginning. 


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