"Just another Nightmare"

Not too long ago,
I stepped into a messy quagmire.

_____________________________

At first I had had my inhibitions,
But then something happened,
Someone caught me by the hand
And said, “Come now, follow me,
There is nothing to fear.”
And so I let myself be led.

But the farther I went
The deeper I sank,
The damned stench of blood and clay;
And the all encompassing darkness…!
But none of these did my mentor feel,
As if he belonged there,
As if he were born out of that pungent mess.

I felt as if led by a Shade,
For where I was blind,
His vision seemed clear,
But the prefixes and suffixes
Of what he must’ve felt
Were blur!

But I did hold my patience
Even when everything around
Smelt of a kill, a Rat.
Until he gave me that Sinister Smile,
And I felt an inhuman chill
Crawl up my spine.
And then I ran, I ran,
Away from his sapphire gaze,
Till I broke free of that God-forsaken maze;
I was bathed in mud,
And I too now smelt of the Blood.

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It was long ago,
I stepped into that messy quagmire;
I found out afterwards,
It was just another nightmare;
But I still smell of the blood,
And whatever I touch, turns Clay.

A Dove’s Flight Home

A white dove flies…
Above the dale o’ silver grass,
O’er the fields of golden wheat;
Far he has to fly,
To the land of olive trees.

The place where the white dove lived,
The branch which bore his nest;
That place is lost,
The branch now broken,
So the white dove flies.

The white dove flew,
O’er vales ‘n’ hills;
His wings stretched above
Forests of chrysanthemum,
Marshes with smiling daffodils.

The dove decides to stop,
Its wings demand rest;
The dove is out of breath,
Scarlet blood flowing out
O’ its deeply hacked breast.

How the dove received its wound
We do not know;
Cuts and burns have a story of their own.
Though he blamed the world,
It was a fault his own.

See the dove flies again!
Pursuing hope, false but fair,
To reach his new lair,
The olive tree, his Eden owned,
A paradise lost, a new one found.

Incendiary

Burn baby burn!
Burn hard to reach me,
Burn till what is black, becomes white.
Don’t be afraid,
I shall collect your ashes from the dust and sand,
And wash my hands in the Sea;
Then maybe on some desolate shore,
You shall meet me once more;
We shall begin our story from there…
And perhaps this time,
Our little fairy-tale will have less blood, more glory.
So babe! Don’t worry,
Leave all else to me…and burn!
Burn as I once did;
You have burnt alone long enough,
A flicker it has been,
Now burn with me.

Malediction

Love is a Malediction,
A shallow farce, a sullen act,
A work of unadulterated fiction,
An insipid feeling; untamed…
So frail, so fragile,
A painted leaf upon a petrified tree
From whence sprout the roots of life.
The leaf does not wither
Unless you want it to… True;
It weathers the Autumn,
Falls as you behold Spring.
So you see…
After all the mush and sauce,
Love is indeed against the Divine will;
Love is darker than the Night,
The scar it leaves is darker still.
The Devil's Snare,
Nature’s blaspheme.

Lost in translation

I am so lost in translation
That all I want to say
Comes out wrong, makes me look a fool.
I try to discover means, albeit roundabout
To make her see the better way,
To tell her that I have no sway,
On the things I do, on the words
Spoken, reconsidered, regretted.
And how every time I try,
To write something beautiful
To make her smile;
I end up just as bad,
Writing my own obituaries… … …



My euphemisms are all old now
And my borrowed feelings just as stale,
This whole affair has begun to stink;
A proper nausea, the uneasy smell.
And each time I script this sulking story,
That has no love, speaks of no glory;
No knights here, no damsel in distress,
Not the Devil’s own,
Nor angels of fallen grace;
Each time I try thus to break free,
I end up just as mad,
Dancing upon my hand carved cemeteries… … …



For all I know, for all I care,
This story could go on;
For testaments are not meant for me.
And now that I have lost my religion,
Pursuing one god after another,
Sacrificing everything but my threadbare soul;
The Devil may take it
Not that I care much, no more,
Trivialities do not surprise me,
And oh so the masked glamour!
None of that for me, I have had enough;
For all the happy things done,
I end up just as sad,
Sketching my not so fond memories… … …

Hell hath no fury...

Glorious o ignominious Love

Whence doth your fate rest?

Is it past the scaffold

Or through the gibbet;

A thousand questions, the dullest drone

All unrequited, some unspoken

Heaven’s blaze………in this twilight

All is sinister, all is dark

Stitched eyelids, they cannot see

That I walk upon a precipice

O Love, where doth she lead me?

To the land of mist, eternal smog

Beware Man! Fear the white gloved hand,

Remember! Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.

Devil May Cry

Nervous, shaken, stirred,
I rise with trembling legs,
The earth 'neath my feet
Is firm,
The sky above my head, wet.
The tears that fall from thence,
I gather them with patience
For they bear testimony
That devils may cry
And sometimes angels do play games.