Sunday, September 25, 2011

Brutal ecstasy...


A love tied in shackles,
a life lost in wait,
to ask for more elixir,
is a sin wrapped in wrath.

With a numb heart and soul,
he watched the light replace,
confined in a vicissitudinous state,
he couldn't help but hate.

And then the clouds revealed,
the cruelty of his pulchritude,
when his carnal-infested body,
transformed into a beast.

He growled and grumbled,
and compassionately moaned,
until his melancholic voice faded,
into the vacuum of feelings so evaded.

With heart wincing in isolated glory,
and mind racing away from realities so gory,
memories shy away from the only life they knew,
as twisted cadaver rolls down, from the treachery so strewn.

The lava spews, the ashes flare up,
the rage forecloses the agony with love,
the intense lividity, the overcoming hatred,
all become heroes, and leave the romance to shed.

And the beast feels lethargic, but still wants to continue,
to pierce his claws, to scathe the living flesh,
to ooze the warm blood, to leave the skin disfigured,
and with that pressure of angst, devour the soul that he loved.

And efface the trace, of her existence altogether,
for betraying him, for tormenting his innards,
for burning his trust, and castigating his love,
her filthy abasement, left him palsied.

To forgive her, is no longer an option,
his packaged soul, is bruised and lacerated,
and reduced to shambles, disgust, and ugliness galore,
how can he release her now? She has to pay.

And so he lifts his obliterated hands,
and thrusts her neck, and pins his claws in,
with outrageous agony, her winces multiply,
he digs deeper, as if into a self-destructing abyss.

Until he's derived enough pleasure, until his sadism declines,
he rips her ugly flesh, like tearing a cloth in two,
he twists the bits until he can twist no more,
and batters the disgusting meat, till its left no more.

And in this void, this blind sweet night,
the beast transforms, into someone he once knew,
and while his rage is still the hero, he welcomes the ritual,
he torments the dead some more, and throws 'it' into the fire.

With ambers trying to escape, the orgy of disgust,
the villainous blobs, now exit the fleshy state,
but the heart that he once loved, is yet to expire,
that red mass of shit, remains untainted from the fiery ribbons.

His hatred illuminates, his emaciated hands lift,
a ruby-studded golden dagger, and commence the penultimate action,
of stabbing the inhumane organ, until the flames around him,
grab his arms and pull him inside, the inescapable pyre.

The treacherous flames burn his face, and burn his soul,
till an epiphany to live, an overpowering will within,
repels the iridescent warmth, that engulfed him in,
he lashes out, on the tender green grass, a life after all.

Burned, bruised, repelled, damaged and ugly,
his physique is scarred, his soul is weakened,
with the ultimate inch of energy, he closes his eyes,
to find the bleak shard of life, if it still exists within him.

He rises, with a dwindling body,
coated with blood, not her's, but his own,
with wounds not only self-inflicted, but those lent by 'her',
he feels the utmost pain, between shades of black and orange.

For in the sky, a stillness wanders,
and on the ground, Satan's crime has now faltered,
an appalling site, will soon disappear,
into the ashes of the dead, into the death of 'love'.

And what is the 'human' to do now?
Live like a beast by night, to reclaim his lost right,
with solitude as his faithful companion,
will he survive the guilt he brought upon himself?

And the alternating emotions, of hatred and love battle,
he wriggles in fury, he wiggles in pain,
when the clouds give way, to a white spec of disgust,
he transforms into the 'beast' again, and lies loosely in dust.

And ardently he wishes, to be stripped off of this face,
and this heart and brain, that no longer lay safe,
and the reverberating agony, slipped gradually out of him,
like water being sucked in by a sponge, only this was vice versa.

And everything went still, everything was quiet,
everyone died in shame, for there was no sorrow,
and the stone cold eyes left open, still gazed into the sky,
as the body lay there emancipated, alone in the dead of night!


P.S.: Pictures used in this post are courtesy: RoHiT Iyer of Memoirs of a Drunken Junkie


Also written for: The Gooseberry Garden: week 6: Stories from mythology, Culture and of life.

8 comments:

  1. Gruelling, long, full of gore. Didn't see this one come from you.. Good one :D.. And yeah now that you've used my photographs, I own your blog \m/ :P

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  2. Wow. For some reason, this reminded me of 'Dance of Death' by Iron Maiden and Bram Stoker's Dracula. Amazing write. It all flashed before my eyes as I read it and it was chillingly pure wrath.
    Amazing poem.

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  3. Vivid write filled with chilling imagery. xoXox

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  4. Yes, the vividness of this is awesome. Gret story, well told.
    http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/09/25/one-she-beckons-me-come-2/

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  5. @ bb-loll expect d unexpected :P? d hell u own my blog lol :p

    @ D2-oh m glad d poem cud fulfill its purpose :D tht of exhibitin rage n anger :D.

    @ kay-thnx a lot :D

    @ marbles-thxn, i appreciate it :D

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  6. oh, amen,

    a divine piece, rich, magical, and entertaining piece.

    Happy Poetry Picnic.

    :)

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  7. happens to be the longest poem I have read in sometime!
    But the flow was amazing, with each verse it got me plunged into thoughts...
    rich in words and emotions..very well written :D

    sarah

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  8. @ mornin-awww thnxxx a lot 4 tht :D

    @ subtlescribbler-m so glad tht inspite of being dis long, it kept ya engrossed :D.

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