Friday, September 18, 2009
I have seen better days. It's probably the sun, not shining as expected. It might be the wind, not blowing as it should. Or is it just me?
I have heard better stories. It's probably the catch that I missed. It might be the words, so dry and lifeless. Or is it just me?
What goes around comes around they say, like an everlasting fairy tale. Once upon a time and happily ever after, my life isn't always this way.
My thoughts are buried today yet I walk with only my heart guiding. Undead riding this cursed earth, what difference would heaven or hell bring?
Listening to the birds singing and to the old women relentless in their ranting. Wasting my time with my countless breathing waiting for that one break that could end my suffering.
Why is life so dull and barren like the parched outer crust waiting for the rain? If indeed this rain would fall, would it make life better at all?
What makes thoughts immeasurably valuable before they die their natural death? The gray statue of angelic form oversees the city of the dead. It had stood the test of time and had counted lifetimes of men.
If my life would end for others to begin, I guess this gives me meaning. If I was made to pave their way then I existed not in vain.
Questions arise eternally. Answers fail in offering satisfaction.
I have seen better days. I have heard better stories.
What goes around comes around they say.
An everlasting fairytale.
Friday, September 4, 2009
In the darkness of my room, I stay trying to find my self. Saving all the humanity I have left before I turn into something else. You may have shackled me with your light, but you will never change me to who I am not. I am as I can be and not as you want me.
You taunt me with your kiss, sending chills up my spine. You allure me with your stare like a demon impaled by your glare. Oh, you seduce me with your scent and move me here and there. Your songs have held my tongue and stained my very soul. I have consented you to take charge and allowed you to take control.
But as a I opened my eyes,
the sight made me wish I had not.
And minutes from now you would rise again. I wonder if I could hide from you, heavenly Queen. Your light roaming the countryside, the coldness holding me enthralled.
But your love...
Your love will never be mine. My sanity is hanging by a thread.
The crows are sent into the night sky scarring your face. The moonlight now scratching on my doors. You cannot come my dear...
I am no longer yours.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
When will I ever be enough? How can I be worth anything when your standards are not of men. You should have made a god and not me. What more will I do? How much humanity must I give up for you to see my value? What worth are my tears to you?
I cannot hear you in this storm.
Your words, your words are nothing to me now.
I am nothing but a raft of infinitesimal worth in the midst of an escalating storm with your tides tearing me apart from all sides. God knows I have done my best. I am but a raft, nothing more. You have mistaken me for something else. I have forced myself to my limits, I can no longer do more. My limbs are tattered and with pain I still tread.
Soon my spirit will sink in your ocean. I will drown soon. I have squandered my last breath. Your waters will be my grave. I have no meaning. I have no worth. I will soon reach the bottom. Is there really any difference when I have not reached considerable height? My lifetime was a waste. I have wrestled with the wind, combated with gargantuan waves and yet to you, it was nothing. I am now nearing my end, waiting for the final blow.
My make have failed you, I have not.
The blows have ceased. I am tired. I will now rest. Thank you for making me nevertheless. It was a good fight, I will enjoy my death. Say no more, say no more. I will now kiss the ocean floor.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Teardrops from heaven are cleansing the earth. Sadness of the gods reflecting my own. The same sadness, which had fueled my heart time and time again, had filled my room yet once more. I released my self from the clinch of my pillow, stood, allowed my feet to take me towards my door. As I opened the wooden portal, the loneliness of the world caressed my soul like never before, challenging all the hopes for us which I had kept in store.
Cold air brushing against my cheeks, whispering all the longing forgotten lovers all speak and sending flashes of you minus the deceit. I stood there for a second or two, making my self believe that I've heard your voice, in the gusts of wind, slicing through. I shook my head to interrupt my retrospect knowing that I have fooled my self already and to reminisce would clearly not help me.
I moved forward two, three steps more, enjoying icy pins pricking my skin, watching the world getting soaked in heavenly tears. I worked my way back into my room, got hold of my towel and dried my self. I forced my body back to bed but the sight continued to linger in my head.
Though men with their eyes mock me everyday, the angels sympathized in the sweetest way. Closed my eyes, tried to go back to sleep, hoping that when I wake up, the winds would no longer speak.
Friday, August 7, 2009
I woke up this morning realizing it's a new day, seeing sunlight trespassing into my room colliding with the remaining darkness of my cold recluse. This will be a long day, i thought to my self. As any other day, this will be a slow movie showcasing routinary bullshit, a panorama of faked smiles, heartless laughs, and a whole lot of blank stares. And so I made the usual movements that would take me through this day. Hoping that for a change your memory would not barge into my head.
Everything in the past few months was a blur. A hazy fantasy offered by the inviting beauty of the moon. Now that I am awake, and the sun is at it's zenith, you will just be obliviously evanescent in the most secluded corners of my beating heart. A fading picture of my past recklessness and an envisioned blueprint of my grave.
And there I was out into the world of men, toe-to-toe with whatever that stood in front of me, facing every second after another, clinging to whatever that is left vital for my survival, holding on to the thought that this day will soon come to it's end.
Finally the sun is calling it a day, sinking into the horizon, leaving fiery streaks of gold on it's wake. Kissing the clear skies goodbye. Bidding farewell to the world and my lonely and troubled heart.
There goes another sunset. I've been counting them these days. How many are still left? Will I be able to keep track or eventually lose the count? Was that my last sunset or am I fated to see the next? But knowing that you're still out there, I guess it's still worth the wait.