a machine

He closed his eyes. He could feel,

The rays of the sun, spreading,

Warmly on his skin.

The gentle breeze murmured away,

It tugged at the back of his head.

A shower of cool, fresh, distilled water,

They melted on his face.

Imparting some of their joy,

Some of their energy onto his,

Mechanised soul.


He could hear the birds from afar,

Chirping, singing melodies,

Happy to find, happy to feed.

He heard the herd of deer,

Munching away on the wild lushness.

He even heard the fluttering wings,

Of a tiny bee, as she hovered,

Over a garden full of roses.


He could smell them, those roses,

Their fresh fragrance, it surrounded him.

He smelled life, beauty, energy.

And it stimulated him.

Till he entered those pieces of his soul,

That had long died.


He tasted the joy it gave him.

Sweet sweet sweet it was.

He had never felt this close ever.

For the first time, his body

Felt at sync with his thoughts

For the first time,

He could sway to the tunes

That he so loved and adored.


The feeling enveloped him,

Enraptured him.

And he loved it.

He savoured it.

<knock knock>

Our man awoke.

<knock knock>

“Who’s there,” he said.

“Secretary. The files have arrived.”

He sighed.

“Leave them on your desk. We leave in 5”


…………….And just like that,

A dream, a hope, a chance at life,

Was lost in the ways of machinery.


3 thoughts on “a machine

  1. Words fail: just ❤ … Have you read The Secret Garden, by Frances Hodges Burnett? Fits perfectly, the breathtaking wondrous beauty of nature captured in Times New Roman, bittersweet poignance with the fragrances of roses and honeysuckle lingering in the air…

  2. No, I have not. I’ll try to find the book. Thanks 🙂
    (captured in Times New Roman.. i’m giggling. i dunno why. =P)

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