Fate

Fate, an excuse to put my blame on. An imaginary being falsely accused of my deeds. Explicitly tried for my sins. A knotted transgression implying my perversion. I do something and until and unless the consequences seem right, the deed is mine; and as thing start turning sour, fate comes forward to take the blame.
Isn't that how we all live? Isn't that how we brush off our mistakes and flaws? Isn't it a part of our aim for perfection?
A deed is a fibre, intertwining with others to create the very thread of our lives and affecting others' lives in the process. Nothing is pre-decided, wrought on the time line, but is a consequence of deeds - ours and others'. We are masters of our own destiny, not fate or the "Almighty" God. Fate is an invention portraying our thoughtlessness.
A realization is pending, of the truth. There is not fate, no cleared pathways into the wilderness of life. There is but a will, to create these pathways, savoring every win and learning from every loss. Mourning and lamentations are signs of weakness and must be dealt with.
The weak cannot create paths on their own. They follow the brave blindly, meekly like sheep. They make the same mistakes as the brave do, the fall into the same potholes that the brave do. Yet the rewards they reap are nothing compared to what the brave have reaped. At destiny's end, the weak stand forgotten and only the brave are remembered.
It is upto us to decide, what we wish to be, sheep or human, weak or brave. We can choose to be the weak, to live in a herd and to die in seclusion. But on the other hand we can choose to cut our own path into the wilderness and traverse it, wary of the dangers, savoring every moment. To live with suffering, stand up to it and deal with it. The choice is but ours.
Those who seek perfection never achieve it. Perfection comes to those who accept their imperfection and strive to change their flaws themselves without tolerating excuses. Those who seek themselves, achieve perfection. Those who realize what they are inside and honestly try to change it. Those who are willing to fight destiny and overpower it, without worrying about tomorrow. Those who live by the moment and not by the future.
For a deed is a fibre, circumferential in nature. What you sow is what you reap.

Nausea

A rotten smoke

Of blackened flesh

Sublimated

Through the nostrils

A thousand several corses

Fumed naked in the mire

The monstrous beast

Of unfound guilt

Trapped somewhere

In the weakened nchest

Reprehension

Of a blood loathed soul

Gone astray

In the joyous surroundment

The breath

Never so taken

Bubbled out in refusal

"It was me!

The demon!"

A stream of biled blood

Spurted out through the lips.

Paranoia

I stood undulated, in front of the mirror. Speculating at the vanity of my own self. A mere image. Haziness imprinted in the eye, lack of purpose etched on the face.

I wondered if I could ever betray my own self? All my life, filled with lies and delusion, have I not been lying to myself? Lulling myself to security when I knew nothing would be alright. Deluding myself into tales of utter dismay, dismantling myself into a real world of my desperate fantasies. I don't remember being able to smile, for what seemed like an eternity, burning away all the truths in the funeral pyre of my wretched self-esteem.

Living a lie.

Lying a life

A sudden, unwarranted hand-motion, I caught myself mimicking on the other side.

"There has been no lies, I guess the pain was real."

And with utter realisation , I began to laugh a hysterical laugh.

Unrest

As I sat by the window
Looking at the crowds 
Torched up in profanity

A bubble of smoke
Drenched in my breath

A burning photograph
Seared in my brain

A smile lost somewhere
And left behind
Waiting for reclamation

The little boy
As he turned to ash
Smiled at me 
In utter desperation

I think
For a moment , he knew.

Trapped in a fishbowl
Ashore the sea.

A smile forged of pain
Stamped in futility.

Nostalgia

Looking at the children

Playing in the streets

The rotten leaves

Burnt to smoke and ash

The musky scent of vigour

Melting away in regression

Watching a corse pass by

To the funeral pyre

The dew drops

Crashing by the eye

A sweet delusion of love

Trusted,

Distrusted,

Distorted to hate

A loose chance of redemption

The razor held in hand

Watching everything pass by

As the sun would disappear

Demise would turn to nostalgia in several years.

Deception

About the poem: well guys this is not my usual style of writting . Dont know how I got the inspiration to write this one. But I hope I worked it up just fine :)

Girls in the streets are all sad tonight

Blood doesnt speak for their pain

Its all too sublime

The city reeks of million rotten dreams,

Dumped foetuses, a myriad limp skeletons

Yet the MAN affords a smile

Luring his lust

Stamping over the crumpled dreams

The carnal hunger Lurking beneath the ravenous smile

Growling for pleasure

From deep underneath

Its all too quiet

As yet another, deluded by the fairytales

And a numrous promises of shining stars

Lies naked into the bloody pool

With sugarcubes on her tongue

In hope to get a taste

A smile etched on her lips

Lit by the hopes of coronation

As the MAN plunges into her

And again and again

Feeding his lust

On her craving for the high

Inseminating her with his miasmic breed

Forgetting everything promised

He gets up and walks away

Leaving behind , the consequence of his deed

Another murdered dream, another decieved soul

Girls in the streets are all sad tonight

Frozen by the deceit

Stuck in the limbo of perpetual high

Hating herself, unbelieving.

Another innocent soul

Is turned a whore tonight

The Sound Of Truth

Clenched claws and lusted gaze

Broken Heart and storming rage

Bleeding chest and fallen hopes

Burnt to ashes, a trusted emotion

“The lust for love’s eternity

Craving for a trust

Thy shalt not be tempted, Son

Else thou suffer”

Brooding eyes and trickling tears

Weeded guilt and spawning fears

Swollen bones and bleeding flesh

Murdered by self, surviving hope

“Fallen unredeemed,to temptaions

Disgracing the comandment of eternal despair.

What thou sow is, Son

What thou reap.”

Translucent flesh and feeble bones

Reeking breath and smoking blood

Blurry vision and demented thoughts

Dying pulse, an oncoming vain.

“An advent without an end

A quest for pain’s mortal limit.

What thou seeketh, Son

Of thyself?”

Depredation

They say, in death there is a chaos. Of non-coherent memories flashing through your eyes, reliving the flashback of your insignificant rotten life, escaping the the yield of what you sow in the graveyard of ruins. I say, in death there is peace. A perpetual relief from your sins, freedom from emotions and a relief from the fear of finally losing your dear life.Death never fascinated me. But, looking at what I lived and what I found in death, death is rather what I sought in life. Peace. 

                                                               ****                                                                                                                      

"....please , I beg of you. Let me go!!"

I could see the innocence , curled up in a mess underneath me. Tears bursting out on her face, heart bursting  wails erupting from her throat. Was I turned on by her misery? Maybe I was. It was a pleasure to see ,the reason of all my sufferings, suffer.

 Suddenly there was a burst of laughter, as I looked down at her.

"Did you really love me, huh??" she said as I watched her twist and twirl with inhuman force  and I was thrown off with hysteric momentum.

All I could do was gasp in horror as I watched her transform into a huge bulbous mass, taking shape of a strange blood-0feasting weed like from a stupendous horror story. She looked up at me through bleeding eyes, smiling with bloodlust she gaped at me. With every bit of strength I tried to move and the sizzling reality hit me like a stone wall and I opened my eyes.

Relief!

It was jus a dream.

Panick!

What have I done?

I lay in my bed , looking up at the ceiling as the stink of rotten flesh filled my nostrils. The dream was still burning on the walls of my vision. 

Listening to my heartbeat as it boomed in my ears, I followed the stink  towards the basement. The room was filled with darkness and filthy reek and a rotting consequence of my deed. Descending the stairs, it felt like a vaccum being formed in my head, crushing my brain into nothingness. The reeking fume was intensifying as I descended and waves of nausea hit me like thunderstorm one after the other. Overcoming the surge to vomit I saw in the corner, a heap of decaying flesh, she lay. Just as I had left her.

                                                       ****                                                                                                              

We were once in love, that was a long time ago. We were in love like every other love story. Living for each other, finding heaven in each other's arms, never caring , but, for each other. Thats how sweet love is, a sweet lapse of reason. 

But times change. So did she. Everything I did, Everything I sacrificed ceased to matter. She found her paradise with someone else.

But that was not the end of it.

One fine day, I called her up to my appartment, just one last meeting for the sake of a love that once existed.

She sat right beside me, holding my hand. She looked beautiful. As beautiful as ever. Only her eyes were now shadowed with shame, I saw no trace of love that once lived there. And like a psychotic madman, I pushed her on the floor and threw myself on her. She screamed for help, but there was noone to help her. 

Undraping her like an animal, I plunged into her, and again and again. She cried, begging. But that didnt move me, she deserved what had come her way. I saw her twist and twirl under me, I had started enjoying her helplessness now. After all her efforts to plead had failed, she gave up. Her body became limp, all expressions from her face evapourated, her eyes staring blank at the ceiling. I carried on with my business.

And when I had fed my carnal hunger to its limit, I took the knife and slit her throat. Freeing her from the agony.

                                           ****                                                                                                         

Her dreams have never left me since, her shadow is always lurking in the dark corner, looking at me with burning eyes.

Hatred I believe is a very underestimated emotion. It turned a man a beast without realisation.

The same knife lay on the floor in from of me, welcoming. I took it in my hand, slowly slicing away the veins in my wrist. Drifting away from all the consequences, from all my fears, I lay waiting for dear death to come .

They say, in death there is a chaos of reverberating reveries. I say, in death there is Peace.

The Last Cigarette

A smooth stench

Of soothing smoke

Sucked in

Through pursed lips

With burning relief

Eyes shut softly

Thoughts abandoned

In zero gravity

Head hung lowly

Welcoming a numbness

Letting it crawl

From lungs to spine

Despair reminisced

In a perpetual moment of oblivion

Tears that welled up

Lost ground to uncertainty

Filled

To the brink of exhaustion

Nostrils flared

With expiring smoke

Opening eyes

To new revelations

I withered away

With that last cigarette.

A Tale Of My Rendezvous With Despair

On the eve of forever I stood, undulated, mourning my loss. Every passing moment felt like an eon, as if time was frozen for eternities. The sky was  going yet paler, cold breeze caressing my skin. The trees around me danced, as if rejoicing at my loss, mocking silently at the blisters of my past, whispering silently among themselves. The stars in the sky twinkled, as if shredding a tear, reminiscing a tale of eternal sufferings.

Sufferings, should I call them? Or a series of  bitter experiences, accompanied by severe loss, as they say? It doesn't seem to matter. What matters  is the bitter pain it caused . The suffocation of thought, neveraltering by the songs of my lament, forever getting strong and not fading away. As if I was stuck in a limbo of sempiternal stillness, needles of time piercing every portion of my thoughts, not letting me move even a step forward.

The tale of my hurt would sound, to you, such a clichë. But trust me, every cliche, when gone though, is so unheard, so alien that reality, from your mind, tends to slip away. Everything heard or seen or learnt disappears and every tiny space is occupied by a newfound emptiness. A silence so dense, it would howl forever in the empty void, breaking you down to the core.

It is in this nothingness, when you find yourself face to face with your sanity. In a realm of thoughts, buried so deep underneath that earlier you wouldnt even dare to dig. But a place, now you would find yourself knocking at, again and again. Trying to find reason, hidden in the transient patterns of your wretched past, building up your own reality, irrespective of the true facts. A place you would worship, a place you would curse, a place you would find yourself lost in self interrogation, a place you would find yourself staring at deceit through your eyes , behind the facade of much rehearsed reality. A place you would find yourself with dynamic entities of your brooding imagination. A place you would be the worthy ruler of. Your Utopia.

On the eve of forever I stood, undulated,on the edge of my sanity.  Expecting the company of a much anticipated entity. An entity yet alien to me, she would speak through her invisible voice, guiding me through the depths of my imagination, through the vast desert of trance, as if she beheld my nerve in her palm. For hours I would wander stray, aimlessly, in the desert, following her voice, trying to catch a glimpse of her.But, all I could ever grasp was a dusty silhoutte, jerking me right out of my revery. But today, after a long wait, she had agreed to grant me my sole wish. The rendezvous was fixed, she was to be here, the shack of my rusted past, by the rise of morning star. And, to abide, I had been here all night, not to miss out on her, looking at the sky every now and then, wondering when the moment would arrive.The  horizon was nearing dawn, shades of sky fading, paler. Yet she was nowhere to be seen, neither was Venus, the morning star. But I had her word,she would come,I must wait, for she owed me explanations. Explanations only she could deliver,maybe  putting my brooding thoughts to rest, help me  rid of this wretched insomnia.

With every passing moment my anxienty grew, thoughts began to wander stray, steps pacing up and down the front porch. Looking up at every minute sound, wondering if she had arrived, only to taste disappointment, much bitter every time.

It was then when I saw, walking down in front of the shack, breaking lose from the spawn of wandering thoughts, a shimmering light in the western sky just above the horizon. It was Venus, larger than ever and still growing, as if descending. Descending unto the rendezvous, taking form in front of me , that of a beautiful woman. 

It was her, had to be. Her voice had formed an imagery, just as she looked now. Was that the reason she looked so familiar ?

"I am here love, as was promised." she whispered through her lips, smiling. Her beauty was so ethereal, so pure, I was scared to break the moment with my insignificant words, fearing she might disappear. It was hard to believe she was here. Like a dream, I was trying my best to cling on to the moment, just staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. There was something about her that I couldn't figure out. For some strange reason, I was finding it hard to trust her appearance, as if she would transform or disappear the moment I altered my glance.

After eons of silence, looking deep into her eyes, I realised, those eyes looked pretty familiar. Eyes ,just like the ones I once fell in love with. Eyes I loved to lose myself in. And just a little motion of my eyelids, I blinked and the aura changed

Standing in front of me, was the woman I loved with all my being. The woman I valued more precious to me than dear life. The woman showed me the beauty of love. The woman who abandoned me , leaving me alone, to bask in insanity, in the pensive of whirlwinds.

"No! you can't be..... " I said but words died within my chest.

"It is me."she said , still smiling.

"But you were gone, long ago, far away." I felt myself melting away , on the verge of breaking down, failing to understand anything, failing to find words.

"That was a mere silhoutte of my being." she said ,"..I am omnipresent, under the facade of different emotions among you."

"But who are you?" I asked, as if begging.

"I am despair, the consequence of everything you do and everything you feel."

I was not able to understand anything, sanity was a total chaos at the moment. Every word she said was hitting hard on the walls of my skull, as if trying to release the insane monstrosity trapped behind the walls.

"I see you long for me , I see you running away. But, irrespective of everything, you've always been my concentration." she said.

"But, I loved you." I said in a weak voice, as if breaking down.

"So did I, but you cannot have me. Yet, you will find me with you, forever. Not in one form, but always another."

My strength gave up now, I felt gravity pulling me down, dragging me back to the shell of mental paralysis, away from this psychotic procession of thoughts, and I gave myself in. My eyelids felt heavier than ever in the past two years. As I fell to the ground, through the half shut eyes, I saw the Sun rising through horizon, bringing with it a new dawn.

"Sleep now, love, I must take leave. But you will find me within you, forever."

Admittance of Cowardice

"Perhaps I missed that smile, And that is the cause of my tears." Sitting tight at the edge of my sanity, with the razor held firmly in my hand, I could not seem to make a decision on what I intended to do with myself . I had all the valid reasons, but there was this certain uncertainty lingering in my head,"Do I have the courage?" And there lay the infinite wasteland of nothingness as an answer to the question. This is where everything comes to an abrupt hault. Point zero. Where reasons and desires hibernate to futility, overshadowed by the lack of will and courage. Death never scared me. Rather, I was fascinated by the very concept of death. A peaceful end to the fatuous concept of social insanity, shrewd expectations, wretched failures and brooding fears hovering over our shoulders. An end to all our sufferings, all uncertainties lingering in our heads, all the thoughts that make us cry, every loss that left a gaping hole in out rotten insignificant meaningless lives. The question , however is, if not death, what was it then that I was so afraid of? Was it the fear of pain?Or the fear of dying in vain? A fear that noone would care if I died. Noone would feel any sense of loss with my departure. Or was it the fear of missing out on a better life? Sweet hope of redemption. None , I guess, or all? Truth be told, no matter how much I despised the concept of social insanity, the concept of caring and being cared for, knowing and being known, the artificial fabric of society, I was just a meek slave to the desire of being loved, wearing a facade of ignorance and indifference. 

Living a lie,
Lying a life

That , I believe, is why I repelled my certain share of happiness and that exactly had been the cause of my tears. "Hidden underneath the facade of ignorance, Blinded by my own lies, Perhaps I missed that smile, And that is the cause of all my tears." Sitting tight at the edge of my sanity, with the razor held loosely between my shivering fingers, I guess I knew my attempts were futile. And I knew I would never let it crawl over my conscience. After all, admittance is never a coward's cup of tea.

Solitude

"Such fortunate are the forgetful

 For they forgot the taste of love

 Sincere innocence, inseminated

 With unbriddled miseries.

 Such blissful is the world

 With forgotten reveries

 Lost to itself

 Reeking no more of another's guilt."

Solitude, as they say, is a curse. Bestowed upon our wretched fate as a consequence of our unredeemed mistakes. Solitude, I believe, is pure bliss. Granted to those ,only, who would dare to wander alone in the realm their own anonymity.

Solitude is something, that brings you face to face with sheer reality. Something that takes away all your fears, frees you from the miseries nailed to you for another's mistakes.

What wrongs can 'you' bring upon yourself when world outside awaits to eat you up?

Let me pose atyou a rhetorical question:

"Why should you pity my solitary state, when you are the one afraid of being alone?"

Why should you be sorry for me when 'you' are incapable of holding yourself up on your own?

Why not be sorry for your pitiful dependant condition instead of my originally dependant state of mind?

You may never be able to answer that, and I will never demean my self esteem by giving you an answer. But I will leave you with this:

"When I look into the mirror, I see me. Do you?"

Comatose

A strangled dream

A soothing nothingness

Pressed benumbed

Through walls of Conscience

Lost through eternities

In a world so cold

No sense of reason

Mocking free fall

A myriad needles 

Piercing the skull

Oblivious

Of Dimensions

Breathing on in futility

For life is all but gone.

Apocalypto

Hallucinating

Under shadows of the sun

Brooding

Over a pensive of whirlwinds

The ashen sky

Sunk over the burning ruins

The clouds of rusted smoke

Roiling around untamed

Shrouding away all thoughts

From writhing imagination

Death

Morphed from fear to craving

Would soon overwhelm

Ceasing eternities

As the wild imagination of a burning child

Would soon claim the throne.