Draw the curtains, raise the blinds,
like the morning light has touched the dew,
for it might be night but the day is new,
and few will see,
this light tonight I call magnificent.
Draw the curtains, raise the blinds,
the stars tonight won't shine,
bright enough, or, sparkle enough,
for the blind to see,
for the little children to wish upon.
Draw the curtains, raise the blinds,
the moon tonight will cower behind,
the calm emotionless clouds of the sky,
and the calmness of the sea,
will reflect not its rays.
Draw the curtains, raise the blinds,
blow out the candles and switch off the lights,
the rays of sunshine should well enough spread the life,
for this beauty I foresee,
will last a lifetime.
Draw the curtains, raise the blinds,
because tonight the sun will shine.
That bright flower, you are.
You are, that bright flower, just,
that bright flower in the middle of a desert,
that bright flower floating on the surface of the ocean,
that bright flower in the middle of a snowstorm,
that bright flower floating in air, in the middle of a hurricane.
You're far from an oasis in the desert you live in,
your roots so short to anchor you to the bottom of the ocean,
your endurance to cold is wanting, to storms, inexistent,
your weight cannot hold you down, you're helpless in the air..
Yet no petals dry and fall off of you,
yet no wave comes and tears you apart,
yet no cold shrivels your existence,
yet no wind blows any pollen from your anthers.
You are that bright flower!
That bright flower that gives moisture to that which is dry,
that bright flower that calms the waves and slows the currents,
that bright flower that melts the snow and stills the storms,
that bright flower that makes the winds weak by its attractiveness.
You brighten up your environs and illuminate that which is dark,
you are that bright flower.
You irradiate beauty and magnify perfection,
appeasing all the aesthetic senses,
you are that bright flower.
& as the dust in the desert worships your beauty,
& as the waves of the ocean shower you with praises,
& as the flakes of snow kiss you with admiration,
& as the winds embrace you with love and affection,
so does my heart beat for your attention.
You are, after all, that bright flower.
Even when there was silence around her,
each and every single night..
there were sirens in her head.
Sirens. Loud sirens. That kept going.
On and on, on and off, off and off.
There were noises in the backyard,
there were voices in the front yard.
The screaming and shouting,
was awakening the demons,
her dark and ugly inner demons.
The police cars were chasing,
the ambulances were racing,
the firefighters' trucks were pacing
her peace away,
piece by piece, draining her energy,
her zeal to live.
Her dreams for the future,
getting ripped off from the picture,
the camera shutter sounds,
turning into stutter sounds,
of loud annoying music,
that the DJ wouldn't stop playing.
The party was at its peak,
and the crowd that she had picked,
kept jumping and dancing,
and bumping into her,
kept screaming the lyrics,
she didn't know to her favorite songs,
her favorite dress was sparkling blue,
the makeup she had on was sparkling too,
this night as she had dreamt was a dream come true,
Déjà vu.
It was fun she wanted that she wasn't having.
It was a crime she was committing that she hadn't planned.
It was a trip down memory lane that she couldn't remember.
Uncalled for drama.. was she living her dream?
No. Because she woke up screaming,
and the sirens were gone;
the sirens in her head.
