In the midst of metropolis,
A Barbie squeezed out of bondage
Felt the need to squeeze back to bondage
Thus, a desire to go back and forth was
A mission yet to be accomplished in
Death...

Love tackles even the strongest,
The majestic, the immortals...and...
A fissure is enough to create a beeline
For the lost_ and yet to be found
Hero – wannabes

I saw her at the first sight...

Her name was hemic because she suffered
From a disease which swam inside her name
I don’t know what her fate would’ve been
If she was named Rich...

Was she going to suffer from riches?
Was she going to end all the suffering?
Was she going to pick flies from all the faces in the impoverished lands?
Or was she just going to die without a soul?

At least she crotched a hemidemisemiquaver
And whenever a drum rolled, hummingbirds
Stood in awe of the pitch of her voice,
Woodpeckers followed suit and the old tree
Only watched a lonely Calvary from a far...

She received post traumatic stresses on the beep
If she had a flexible arm, she would crack a whip
But the zip on her lip was enough to loosen,
The grip on her hip...eventually, she lost her morals
In the battlefield whilst pleasing the giant

“Man can’t live by bread alone...” said the Bible
But she was waiting for the prayer to end
And at the end, receive daily bread from God
But, unfortunately, she had no God_

She had the devil’s dress hanging in her closet
A dress she wore every time she needed closure
Matter of fact, it was her closest friend
And memories of her love were wrapped
Inside the dress like a prom Queen.

A voice yet to be heard, was hers,
A tear yet to be wiped, was hers...

Only a glance into her soul, would make two voices call out for help
A glance into her heart, would make two teardrops glisten for a wipe

What makes an empty heart?
Maybe if hers was empty, it would make more noise
Like an empty vessel and the world would offer her eternal help.