The Post Apocalyptic Twilight

The incurable moment of reality of life that calls it a day
Gulping down the devastated truth of life that still pray (to live)
far away in the horizon, her soul takes its direction
Upon the temple of hope where an wish became unfaithful
She still collates her dream and plays with the rainbow
and colors the cloud that smells peruvian...

With that pair of eyes which speaks the solitude
and beneath the earthy smell of her breast
a heart lies which is always rude ( to her hope)
The moment of coldness has become the moment of truth now
the coldness of her skin would speak about it
before you will wonder how( her feet still stands on the ground)
Upon the temple of hope where an wish that became unfaithful
She still collates her dream and plays with the rainbow
and colors the cloud that smells peruvian...

Watch her becoming obsolete now
her feet are the root of her ground
with those circles of  blistering wishes revolving round and round
She still wants to color her dream
and make them real...
ohh her roots(feet)are heavy now
Which needs the mellow touch of the mississippi rain
And there's she finally collects her dream and colors the rainbow too
The whole sky smells peruvian now

In a far distance far above the clouds
in the shadow of a dark nebula
she touches my rotting soul

and the moment of coldness becomes the moment of truth!
 The rainbow has become darker now...




(Artwork Courtesy- Saloni Sinha at http://morbidillusion666.deviantart.com/)