Does it really matter?

is it true?
or it is true,
does it really matter?
it does,
if you do.
do you?
who knows?

(i do.)

it does not matter
what it really is,
when all that matters
is if you do.

my truth is safe
it is solitary
and it is pure

(but not proud).
i do not share it
and never will
as when i do
it will cease to be mine
and turn into
a lonely bastard.

CMYK

Cyan, yellow, magenta and black
Original and unadulterated
Like elements in the periodic table
Often mixed up to form compounds
Unabashedly flaunting new hues
Radiant and vibrant, dull and fuzzy
Simply mix them up to unravel their magic!

Intangible reality

Love is devotion,
Love is blind, 
Love is patient,
Love is kind.

Love is not proud,
Love does not envy,
Love is not loud,
Love does not kill you gently.

When love is real
It does not lie,
When love is real
It brings you joy.

True love makes you feel wanted,
True love is not easily angered,
True love isn't what you say,
True love is what you do.

What is love if not just a feeling,
Alluring us in a glorious daze,
No one knows what love is concealing,
Beneath the countless tomes in its praise.

Hubris

Shaken, but not broken
Her dignity wrapped in silence;
She hopes to forgive him, in time;
Giving up her fragile pride.

Proud, but not ignorant
His vanity basked in her love;
Knowing she won't confront him;
Veiling reality over his hubris.

Teardrops

Like a frozen waterfall yearning to ripple down the rocks;

Like a mother holding out her arms to embrace;

Like a beast waiting to be uncaged;

Like a fan cheering on the edge of her seat;

Like a swimmer rising up to catch a breath;

Like a child searching the sky for a falling star;

Like an athlete bracing at the starting line;

Like a fish out of water leaping to get back;

Like a writer craving for the words to come to her;

Even as she waited for what felt like eternity,

The moment never came along;

Just like the tear drops in her eyes,

That never rolled down her cheek.

Hope

Luck is an alluring drug;
It distracts you from reality
Into a trance of idleness
Nestled in the bosoms of hope.

He came to the city of dreams
Wedded to the burden of fate;
Drawn by desire for a better life
Stranger to its capricious adversity.

For the city that never sleeps
Is ruthless and unforgiving;
For every dream that becomes reality
Hundreds are shattered into oblivion.

Virus

There is no dearth of variety
In our search for order,
The beauty of human diversity,
We perceive as chaos and disorder.

It starts with the body,
Sex, colour and build;
Then we get inside the head,
Culture, ideology and even sexuality.

The virus of man-made labels;
Has reached epidemic proportions,
Having caused more human deaths
Than diseases and natural disasters.

Religion and nationality,
May be the worst of the lot;
Having the dubious distinction,
Of the highest mortality rate.

The disease has many symptoms;
With pride being the most common,
An intangible measure of human vanity
That has brought untold damage to humanity.