Diary Named, Eternity.

The Gr8 Adakron
Sep 1, 2018 · 3 min read

Into to the hands of a sailor,
Who is chained to flee,
He bribes the promises,
On surface; to endure glee,
He calls his floating wooden queen, as his Kingdom,
And there’s a giant wheel — Helm; he named Freedom,
He steers Freedom in each and every direction one can see,
Yet, he mentions himself as, “A slave to flee”.

In the bright daylight,
He enjoys the roaring sound,
But during stormy nights,
He feels to be hell-bound,
He never embraces, but he talks to me once a week,
With the blank expression, there’s a lot he speaks,
He talks nothing specific; here, there and around,
More about kingdom and water than less of ground

I reside next to Freedom,
On an oyster shelf; neat and well,
A daydream view of the horizon,
At night, who’s hard to tell,
Orange rays carving claim, to reflect the raging dawn,
Seagulls hunting noon brings giant gills foreign mourn,
Then vibrant skyline shower one contemplative spell,
Slowly gone; who own all these sparkles? it’s hard to tell,

Someday our kingdom,
Is filled with towers of oil,
He puts his cap on his face,
Black hands of dust and toil,
He says God’s color is Blue, for humans it’s Green,
And I am scribbled red; God knows what he has seen,
He says, towers are ashes of today’s dreaming soil,
He loves Blue, hates Green but bargains with Red and turmoil.

Once a month,
He awaits the holy night,
A flare went up to the sky,
One gaze held, too tight,
Soon, the kingdom is filled with strangers; caps on their face,
Quiet murmurs with black hands, competing in some race,
Then come the words of farewell with a pad of delight,
All swallowed in silence and he holds Freedom tight.

Days after the holy night,
He rests in smoke of his cigar,
Among harmony of dancing waves,
Reflect many wounds and scars,
Guilt filled to the brim; somewhere burns someone’s dream,
In the fields of an unknown, they’ve done nothing to him,
Among sinful lines on his face, he has wandered too far,
Then he writes the story, how he burned one shining star.

Days of health and young,
Fresh blood and scarless skin,
Among the sea of faces,
An angel’s glow, I had seen,
The laws of gaze stumbled to the worships of nature,
Into the moment that split in another, I sorted my future,
Sketchy eyes with crayon lip, a conspiracy of many dreams,
Those shiny black hair, viewed many times; yet unseen.

In the land of my birth,
Women are just a pair of hands,
I had never seen the sea,
Barren rocks were my friend,
In one farmer’s farm, prosperity reap along with the fruits,
And my gaze stealer was the only inherit of his crude,
For whom, the price of barren land was nothing too grand,
Then this man of rocks was introduced, as her new friend.

Every dawn, I sang to live,
Just like a morning dove,
With hand in hand,
We walked in gardens of love,
With empty pockets and lovers hold, my dream didn’t wait,
A heavenly castle for my queen; by neglecting the twist of fate,
“Reaped fruits in barren rocks”, which is even denied by above,
With a blink of an eye, we were standing in the fire of love.

Long days, among the rocks,
I too was burning,
The castle and many dreams,
They all were shattering,
Raging blood filled with faith was fooled for the first time,
Then my path with Black hands of dust and flames, aligned,
And all reaped fruits were turned down to ashes; on my willing,
I realized, killing what you love, never gifts you healing.

Under the rain of ashes,
Stand, one man of ruins,
With fiery eyes and Black hands,
The only witness was, full Moon,
A lover with lost faith; killed what loved, is a murderer twice,
I shoveled and kissed the barren rocks to confess my demise,
They said, "A curse is cast to the ground, flee to the sea of the lone",
"A lovers disgrace can only be confessed to the Blue Moon".

With watery eyes, he wrote,
That fire has never left me,
Today, under this blue mooned sky,
I shall, set it free,
Then clouds rumbled as the distant storm, sends a reflection,
He went towards Freedom and steered in its direction,
He enclosed me in a wooden case with his tale of wounds and flee,
Before drifting me along the waves, he named me “Eternity”.

The Gr8 Adakron

Written by

AI, Rhymes and Nihilist.