Just me.

It's hard to be young nowadays.
We have no revolution, no war.
No plagues, and no dictatorship.
There's nothing new, because everything ends up being a copy of the copy of an idea that someone else has already had, a long time ago.
Religion doesn't hold us anymore.
Neither does morality.

We simply face life, and carving it, deal with it and with the people around us.
And for me that has become an impossible task.
I'd rather have problems like those at the beginning, where it's easier to deal with, because we know what we are supposed to do.
But when we face life, we don't know what to expect or how to react to the situations that arise in it.
I wish I could think like most of the people, but unfortunately, I don't have that gift.
I wish I could ignore my doubts regarding this existence and satisfy myself with the football results, or what's going on TV, on any other futility or convention  which might waste my time.
But I am restless about my intellect, about my emotions, actions, disappointments and deceptions.
Perhaps I have an issue.
Perhaps i'm just different.
I don't understand why people seek happiness so much.
Consuming it incessantly, without caring about what exists beyond it.
I believe that life is not only happiness, and that sorrow has a similarly important role in how we see things and deal with them.
That may be because I owe much more to sorrow than to happiness.
I suppose that a person who has had more happiness than sorrow will think differently.

But this is just me being me.

Mistress of my soul

Our reunion needs no words, dear,
For there is nothing to say,
You complete me in such a way,
As might a lover to a girl.


Mistress of my soul,
How do I speak with you?
For my words meander on your infinity,
And your answer does come from the fall.
It leaves me so enamoured and full,
That I do not even need a beckoning call.


How do you know, how to quench this thirst,
And calm my weary quarrelling soul,
The secret which even I do not know,
Even though I hold it in it's earthly hole.
Where do you hide this soothing balm,
This panacea, better than all,
The ultimate serum which through mere sight,
Does push away my untimely pall.
Leaving but my essence to dance with you,
My mortal being silenced for a few.


O mother of many, how do you care,
For all like they were your own,
Feeding them, cleansing them, cradling them beside you,
Giving them a home.


Why do you let them ravage you so?
Without getting your heartbeat up,
And why do you wreak such havoc and death,
Upon such a slight brawl?


Many things you are my dear darling,
But noones to command and call,
For many lovers might die at you feet,
But you are their final sprawl.

Goodbye.

O fair lady of Mazomer, how hast though changed me so?
From the cold, hard guise of a marauder, how has though made me a gentle doe?
For gone are the days, when I was steel.
Entering perilous frays, heart unmoved by the most eerie squeal.
Now a weak mortal I am,
In this bestial world a lamb.
And after all this dis-spiriting wrought,
Why do you leave me in this Hades to rot?

Brought Down

A silent wind whispered through,
The silent brambles of the fall,
Carrying along the brown, dark leaves,
From their withered fragile holds.

A sign of the coming darkness,
A beacon to hibernation's call,
And all do prepare to hide away,
Inside a fire's warm soft shawl.

For does come the majestic chill,
Heralding their frozen king,
To take upon his regency,
The reins away from monsoon's pall.

A monarchy of the cimmerian shade,
Bringing about an anarchy,
An anarchy of deranged minions foul,
Filling these empty pavements with ghouls.

Their silent howls, call their brethren.
From their deathly coma,
To burst forth from their carapaces,
Into this infernal land.

They roam upon the barren streets,
Eyeing those cowering inside,
Inside their decrepit homes,
Dithering in this freezing fear.

Are you ready, O readers,
For this upon us in nigh,
The time when mighty man bows before,
The true csars of this creation.

Union

A lonely vagabond was I,
Lost in life’s intricacies.
When woken up was I,
From this epoch dreary.

The earth was in full unsheathe,
Like a lonely apsara in dance,
Beckoning her lover to bequeath,
But even a glance.

And what an anwer there was!
Their bodies did entwine,
Their love fell, and twas’
The shower of their liquid sunshine.

The creatures of this earth and sky,
Rejoiced in the magic.
In the madness of the loving high,
Creating joy from even the tragic!

The armies of the empyrean,
The dark and mighty legions,
Did parade till the azure ocean,
Announcing their master’s adulant union.

The wind came out of hiding,
And shreiked with jealous might,
Seeing its flame consorting,
With a lover who did affright.

The flora below bended in the gale,
In the flood from above.
Oblivious to their condition frail,
Enchanted by the enamouring love.

And the lovers did glow from within,
Ablaze in their appetance.
Their bewitching dance silently creating,
A fresh layer of nature’s extravagance.

In this waking luminescence,
I was morphed into a being new.
My eyes now look at this firmament,
But see Elysium anew.

Water, water everywhere.

I weep for that which was,
Was destroyed by my own hand,
Regret does sink in me its claws,
Now at this life's stand.

Cannot I be forgiven,
Or given a start anew?
For with thee I will fight the raven,
With all might and sinew.

Another chance, if you might so bear,
Will not disappoint I think,
For there's water, water everywhere,
But you're my drop to drink.

Apocalypse

I stood on the edge of the precipice,
Wind ruffling through my haggard face,
A chill eating into my bones.
My rags barely holding on,
From falling into the abyss.

The angered multitude pushes me on,
Into the eternal onyx chasm.
Their pitchforks and rakes evilly gleam,
In the light of the treacherous embers.

I stand on a knife's edge,
On my fore, destiny darker than black.
Following me, the sky itself sanguinary.
A fateful choice must be made,
For even purgatory does not desire me.

A tempest roars its unearthly arrival,
And brings forth the cleansing rain.
A torrent of unimaginable suffering,
Brought from inside me,
By the guilt bubbling out.

The world explodes into white,
And my mind reels back in time.
Back to the nights of creation,
When I acted like God,
On the devil's bidding.

Deeds unfathomable by mortal man done,
I performed sins unimaginable,
With the purity of sanct rituals.
A scar of black was left,
On the white purity of man.

Deeds horrifying were performed,
Under the cover of the devil's hands.
My mind clouded by his seduction,
An uncontrollable monster did I become,
Lacerating those in my heart.

But instead of decimation, another arose.
A monster worse than myself,
Grew up from within my emptied heart.
Instead of extermination,
Genesis took place of another hellion.

Repentance then coursed through my veins,
And for that by the Apollyon I was discarded.
Disfigured into an empty shell,
All faculties taken from me,
Facing the incinerating wrath of man.

I chose to curse myself forever,
Away from that which I had decayed,
But vengenance was sought by man, swayed by Lucifer.
Chasing me to this final crossroads,
Destiny itself seemed to be laughing at me.

But the laughter was not for me,
For fate and Diabolus were caballers,
And they laughed maniacally at us,
While the wisps of cataclysm began.
The beginning of the end.
The end of all.

A new photography blog :)

I opened a new photography blog, since I'll be deactivating my facebook soon :).
Do check it out : http://distortedsight.blogspot.com

Wisdom from a little girl

Words of wisdom from a little girl:

u knw ppl like u n me
feel
like if they get happy
whole world will try n snatch it away frm them
n ders a certain feeling dat if sumthinsg happy ders certainly sumthin wrong
it won last long
n ur not meant fr it
its all in d mind
u jsut need to fight ur own self
n talk n talk n talk a lot
evn when most of it si usless
:-/
u think ur doomed to be sad
Well, I think this is just that I don't get angry a lot, and don't take out my frustration, so after some time It all comes out..
yes
ppl who flush it out regularly
No, that took it all out. I'm not really a violent guy you know.
r more ha[py
this is like the toxin
Yeah. Even you bottle it up na?
which body needs to excrete
once it starts depositing
it causes harm
yup
because i am not used to shouting
n telling
when i feel bad abt things
so it piles up
You do occasionaly become sad.
but that doesn letme get rid of it entirely
becoming sad means its still hurting u
either u hv to be completely indifferent to things
to d extent dat whteva
happens urnt bothered
or learn to deal wd it
one way is challenging urself
set small targets fr urself
i cannot believe i am actually giving u advice
(moment of eternal joy)
evn tho ders nothing like ne joy i feel
bt i still make myself blv dat der is
in small n stupid things like dese
dats hw it works
i think u should bttr go sleep
2mrrw will be beautiful

Thank you, little girl.
You make me, and are special :).

Conclusion

In a desert,
Reliving the past,
The world rolled by,
With it's variety vast.

The silence played in my ears,
A game with my thoughts.
Lost in their romp,
I became my ghost.

One with inhuman power,
I flowed through time and space.
Seeing my life flash before me,
Myself, I could finally face!

The product of a life,
Lived hard and wrongly made.
One which burned through,
Making my soul fade.

Making me a lost cause,
Forced solitude burdened me,
Leaving me astray in the desert,
Forever free.

A fork came to sight,
Like the many faced before.
But void of all feeling,
I became destiny's whore.

Doom moved my limbs
Into the path of the haze,
Into the haze of the purposeless.

Bodies moved there,
Gazing into nothing.
A movement so haunted.
They pulled me in their medley.

Sight blinded,
Legs unmoving,
I became one with the shapes.
One of their many soldiers,
With nothing to gaze,
But my mind revelled in the peace,
The finality of my eternal chase.

Random Musings

Only for you, my love:

The essence of our souls lies in its emptiness.
We go out on long journeys just to find the meaning in our lives.
Sitting in our own world we go on journeys, almost always failing, but slowly learning.
Maybe one day we will find the the one key to ourselves.
The plug to our emptiness. Our filing. Our spiritual other half.
The magic in our lives, will then be complete and we will create our masterpiece.
But maybe sometimes, death, the destroyer of all will consume us before it.
And we will be left incomplete with our souls thirsting for the attainment of our destiny.
Again and again, we wait for our masterpiece to get ready. To be ready to make it.
For the right chance.Again in a cycle, eternally trapped.Until ragnarok.