A Wedding Bride

A bride so new,

Actually, spectacularly beautiful,

Walked down the aisle.

The groom shed a tear, a tear of joy.

Hundreds and thousands of guests

Scattered the flowers with grace,

Yet it was the father

Whose eyes were wet.

He might have recalled

The night the bride was born,

And today he sees

She is walking down the aisle.

He refused to accept it at once

And looked at his wife,

She signaled to him to pull his shit together

And put on a fake smile of joy.

Being a man, a husband, and a dad,

He remembers a saint and his words:

"Daughters and sons are there as a part of life,

Yet they have their own stories to make for their lives."

Attachment is a source of suffering,

And yet it makes us wonder,

What if there was none?

Would life be the same, full of fights?

This is all that life makes,

So for a bride,

It's in the groom's eye

Where they see both their lives.

Smell of wind

The beast rang its bell,

Clouds are forming,

And I stared

At the blank canvas.

Mortified I was,

Yet calm in my mind,

Felt as thunder looming in,

Slowly, I felt fear.

Fear of the dark

With no hope of lights,

Yet there is a fragrance,

Wait, a smell, a smell of fragrance.

You and I,

Not so different,

Yet as old as one old wine,

Wait, it's definitely a smell, a smell of wind.

Stupid Brain

A wise man once said,

"There is no difference between

A loaf of bread and a brain."

Startled, I thought, "What did he say?"

Just leave them both:

Musk they will become, and mold they will get.

They lose touch with reality,

Making them unbearably rot.

I fear to use them both,

As they become pungent.

What if both were not real,

And it was something that my stupid brain made!