Saturday, June 16, 2018

Mercy...

Two years ago, I felt the same,
Two years later, I still feel the same,
I read my words, and the emotions are the same,
I hardly remembered a thing, do I never change?

When solitude becomes a curse,
And even when you're falling, you're never treated with grace,
And I've lost all on whom I counted,
First I had some, and now I have none.

And I'm grasping at straws, still searching,
This time an object, to absorb my pain,
An outlet, a vent, even a scarecrow,
An inanimate thing, just like me.

A seed needs sun, but the sun is away,
Even when it's right there, it'd rather not sway,
By the seed's needs, pleading for the sun,
But the sun is busy shining, away and away.

Left all alone, the seed is surviving,
Only for as long as the soil is rich, or the water's existing,
But when the entities come, and dig the seed out,
And poke and prod, and eat it loud.

If this was the way it was, why plant the seed?
Why give life, to the one that doesn't need,
Disappointment, and hurt, and lack of attention,
All a worthless gimmick, all superficial.

Why survive, if there's no one around,
Why feel the shade, to be sucked out aloud,
Trapped, tormented, breaking apart,
Why would you hurt more, when it's already hurt galore.

Don't be around, leave it alone,
Can't take care no more, lifeless gothic spore,
Ramblings, shambles, gambles a life,
Leaving, pleading, beating cracked organ,
The eyes feel hollow now,
I can feel the cold,
I can feel the distance,
I can feel the morose,
Locked all away, the battered sparks,
Ice filled the body, no more beats per hour,
Your betrayal, you can't notice at all,
If someone could explain to you, that would enthral,
No matter the words, one doesn't understand,
Speak, spoke, ignored, forgotten,
Closed the chest, of emotional collections,
No bother, no worry, so why do I stay,
Words that held meaning, are meaningless charade,
All my prized assets, have seen their ends,
I am hollow, and hollow shall I stand,
Wish I was a bird, I would fly far away,
But I'm not that lucky, I'm a cursed corpse,
Slowly moving towards a life not my own,
Passing by the mountains, of pain and bone.

Cold Little Heart...

Is it possible to break, and not feel broken?
Is it possible to exist, and yet remain disconnected?
Is it possible to see, and yet not give a damn?
Is it possible to walk, and yet not move forward?
Is it possible to feel, and yet remain cold?
Is it possible to expect, and yet not get hurt?

The more the ageing years, the more these questions arise,
With every passing moment, my distractions multiply,
The pain never stops, it's why I exist,
The more I walk ahead, the more I retract 'myself'.

Expect and lose, expect under your screaming silence,
The more my eyes can feel, the more they now turn cold,
I used to search for something always, I now search for a meaning,
Why do we even exist? If you only want to waste away these years.

Sense. Presence. Existence. And everything in-between, 
This world and its people, I'd like to stay away from,
I now search for a space, distant from the known,
To breathe, and feel, and live some more,
Under the shade, under the wind, 
Under the bright lights that uplift my spirits,
I've lost the attachments, and I have lost some more,
Why isn't the vessel empty? I have no more,
No more to give, no more to feel,
I've only my pain, my own to bear,
Coz expectations are lethal, they've lost their importance,
Along with everything that once was my armor,
I see, I feel, I turn my face away,
Away in disappointment, away in defeat,
And now it's almost gone, that heart that once was,
Maybe I'm here to exist, and get through life,
Maybe this is my fate, brazen and cold,
Coz the straight line no longer curves,
And the animation is all gone,
And the treacherous nuances dance,
Maybe I can give-up, unlike my fighting spirit,
That I thought was ever-existing,
Can't wait for it to break,
And close these chapters of my life,
So I can retreat to my space,
A space of the unknown,
An unknown world,
A world far away,
Away with hope,
Hope that stays,
Stays within,
Within my,
Cold Little Heart...

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Stars... they shine so bright...

"Do you think we could stay here forever? Gazing at the stars?" she asked him with a smile on her face and wet eyes, nestled into his arms, lying on the dewy, soft, green grass in the cold, breezy night.

"I think so, if that's what you want, yes," he replied, kissing her forehead and hugging her more into himself.

"That's exactly what I want," and she looked into his eyes. She didn't know him, yet she knew he means something to her.

There was so much that she wasn't telling him. But she didn't need to. He understood exactly what her eyes were masking. She wanted that. She yearned for that all her life. To be understood. To be understood down to her deepest thought, her deepest soul.

She looked away, and he made her rest her head on his chest, cuddling her, protecting her, caring for her, giving her warmth. Stripping her of her worries, he wanted her to be at peace, he wanted her to experience happiness.

"Good things always come to an end," she said as a matter-of-fact.

"Do you think the stars will shine tomorrow as bright as they are today?"

"Why wouldn't they, love?"

"Coz they aren't real, just like you're not," she looked at him and smiled, as he vapourised into thin air, leaving her alone, on her bed, on a dark gloomy day. She woke up from her dream.

Friday, March 4, 2016

No name, no face...

When all is cold, as far as she could see,
music (like this) makes her soul breathe new air,
she sees the world, she sees closer,
she sees the disappointment that she failed to see earlier,
years of investment, all for naught,
years of efforts, all in vain,
a faint air of disgust fills her soul,
she knows what she must do, she can't be trapped.

No glue in the world can hold the fragments,
that she's made up of, barely sealed by her soul,
a thin line holds her back, from crashing everything down,
she's aware of the choice she makes, in every one of those moments,
where she chooses to go on, instead of destroying,
where she knows she knows better, than to waste away time.

How ironic can life be?
When she didn't care if she was alone, she needed no one,
she had people she could count on,
and now, when strings seem to fade away, every single one,
she screams under her breath, to be heard,
she witnesses this time, but there's no name, no face, that she can recall,
with whom she can share, share the dealings of her life.

She's been disappointed, she's been let down,
that is the way of life, but that is not what she's worried about,
she is cold, but she doesn't want to turn inhuman, just yet,
she knows there's no turning back, once she becomes that,
she knows she doesn't feel much, except what she sees,
except what she hears, except what she's been given.

With (this) music in her heart, her eyes well up,
she smiles in pain, for she knows her end,
if only she could live once, before she could die,
she doesn't want to stop living, while she is alive,
her pride's been crushed, her luck's been robbed,
with every subsequent hurdle, she's been reduced to a silhouette,
she can hope all she wants, for a positive day some day,
but may be some people are not blessed with that,
she walks on the path of nowhere, stuck in a loop,
walking on a barren land, devoid of emotion inside,
devoid of understanding from outsiders, devoid of time for her,
lifetime's treasures, have been reduced to nothing,
it's time to walk away, from all that she created,
it's time to leave behind, the life she had,
and that one moment can decide everything,
that one impulsive moment, when she cries, 'enough',
she's not there just yet, she's not there just yet,
but she will be soon, she knows she will be.