A Tale Unheard

Of twinkling stars far away

Of crimson leaves that shed and lay

And of glimpses remembered, the demented one tells

And memories, old and frail he sells

Unlike his contour, in his sturdy utterance

He speaks his dirge, of his remembrance :

'A world there was, long before

Bounded by its thousand seas, a thousand shores

A surreal place, so magnificent

A divine aura in its ambience

And it spake of glorious battles fought

Of kingdoms conquered and riches bought

And innocuous inhabitants of pure hearts

Of valiant warriors, well-wrought

Of the birds that sang and the lions that roared

And artisans who toiled and diligently worked

The trees that grew on the dunes of sand

And the river that flowed on the parched lands

And a king there was, proud and fierce

Of a heart warm, a mind clear

And a lass there was, by him was treasured

Loved and adored in quantities unmeasured

Of beauty unworldly, unreal she possessed

And flowers sprung out, where her foot did rest

And ripples in sound minds she created

Pure flowed the water from which she bathed

The heavens showered flowers up on her head

And in her presence, the sun came up on wintry beds

Warmth grew out of her smile

And even time stopped to glance for a while

She, a ruler of his dreams, of his day

An inexplicable solution of his maze

And a paradise together they had seen

In love intertwined they had been

But then she had betrayed, fled away

To a man in whose love she had caved

A fragmented soul struck with torment and grief

And silence answered to his pleads

And then his rage had unraveled upon this earth

Terrorized by him, of his insane mirth

Then his sword had spoken, his rave unleashed

And skies had come down, before him they kneeled

Subjected to his anger, to his wrath

Feared by his vengeance, the fury he cast

And from the colors of gore, the landscape was painted

He, ruler of a satanic world, he had created

The shards of his wounds, of his heart

He plunged them into the earth, devastation he marked

And then, his madness had subdued

Aghast of himself, his soul lay nude

And years hence, this letter to her grave

He had kept it with his heart, with a rose he had laid.'

And the lunatic looks up, grey and old

Exhausted from his ordeal, the tale that he has told

And a tear rolls down his wrinkled cheek

His wounds remain, his heart lays weak

In the backdrop, a violin plays

And with a stride slow, into the distance he fades

-Archit

Carnage through a Terrorist's eyes

It’s a cold, windy night

Its eerie whispers sound

Escaping from the crevices of the metal clanking beside

Into the air, the anarchist blankets the town

It plummets meticulously into the streets

Foretelling the horrors near

In its rasp, harsh voice

The stench of which it shall bear

And as it falls upon his face

Its companion it does meet

It sweeps away the cold sweat

From the hazed figure it shall last see

Enraptured by the hellish glow

Whipping around, the figure it does embrace

Lured by the ambitions profound,

Quenching its thirst, the corpses it shall grace

Oblivious of the visitor beside

Determined, he strides forward

Minusculed by the hardened look, the steady hands

Swaying wildly, his shadow follows

The velvety night stretched across

Harbouring the shimmering jewels beneath

Its craft unduelled lays in the dunes of time

Faithfully reflected upon its sheen

And though into its dreary depths

Lay treasures, mysteries to uncover

Envisaging the satanic glow below

Grabbing the night beside, the jewels quiver

The white sphere coruscates, fills the sky

A heavenly glow emanates

The rays rivet down, searing through the misty night

Kissing themselves, lay dazed

Like the others, nor the water's at peace

Still visions it faithfully reflects

Trying to behold her lover's image inside

The sphere dissipates, the morbid night left

And he trudges along, a fixed purpose

His hollow thoughts, him they guide

Like darkness to a blind man

Driving the dead soul, his malice

Lighting the remnants of his bitter past

He treads upon the carpet of emotions laid

Each strand captivates, to avenge

Each strand a woeful tale it says

Some forlorn iridescent strands of the carpet

Of fragile memories prized, of bliss

Of the trance of her charm, the vista unbound

The touch of her lips, the emblazoned kiss

Their contact, it frightens him

Onto the winding path he carries on

And the destination nears, illuminated

By the ire of vengeance, of the armour he dons

Without hesitation or conscientious thought

He opens fire on the innocuous crowd

His sadist bloodshot eyes staring into the void

And with each drop spilled, for more the metal growls

Cries of agony awake the night

Mangled bodies strewn across

And pleas of mercy and help muffled

Of wind's insane mirth, from the present it had sought

The crimson hue of the landscape

The glistening red it boasts

Fulfilling a painter's dreams, the mound of bodies

Seeds of death plants it has sown

Mingled with gore, the mud beside

And marred bodies within it trapped

And the dreams that shall never be fulfilled

And memories that shall never be cast

A spectacle of plight of men and women he witnesses

A greater good he achieves

Corpses of dead infants clinging to their mothers

He fulfills the dream of his creed

Remorse and anguish dawns

He gazes the eyes of a lifeless girl

And the troubled memories again hit

And onto his feet the carpet unfurls

Tears trickle down, his features soften

Picking the metal that has long been part of his

He looks up, announcing his arrival

Falls with a mundane finality as it hits

-Archit

Random thoughts

"Depression is a funny thing. It is addictive, dangerous but when you are out of it seems so foolish... "

"Smile is a boomerang, You always get it back."

"There is no greater friend of you than yourself.. All others are merely mirages"

"There's a thin line between extinction and survival in evolution... Its applicable for humans as well.. Be it physical or mental evolution... Its just that in humans.... extinction at mental evolution means physical extinction as well...."

"Success is like wine. It gets tastier as it gets older. Also its absence can also make you mad." "I just need a splinter, one little spark Believe me, I'll get out of the dark."

"Emotions are very delicate things.. They can prove dangerous if given to untamed, immature hands.."

"It is so pure.. so divine.. makes all emotions come to life.. It can make you smile..make you cry.. It makes you see reality.. takes you away from the virtual world.. of pretentious emotions.. of veiled faces.. It makes you see life.. It is music. My repose.."

"I see a light in the distance.. I reach out and it seems so far.. I crave for a friend in the circumference.. To relieve me soul, my heart that is marred"

"You just need a spark, your mind will be the fuel, your soul will be the wood"

"Success is not ambition but the journey"

Crimson

Depressed maniacs, demented souls, drug addicts, People who slit their hands. They don't do it to be pretentious. Its the pain that relieves them, Its the pleasure that they get, Its silence that they can hear. And it may be mad for the other world but its solace for them. Bonding of flesh and metal, A bond that is complete and unconditional, An existence of their insanity, A feeling of being alive.

Its when insanity reaches a level, when reason vanishes, its you and the wall, the knife. A marriage between you and pain. A bond that is unconditional, pure and born out of pure thirst, of addiction. The worldly perspective vanishes, its when you have been inflicted by so much of pain, a plethora of emotions pounding upon you, leaving you out of space in your mind to look into happiness, that you become numb, immune to it and start enjoying it rather, become addicted to the lucrative sheen on the metal. Its a whole new world of trapped explosive, ferocious emotions, carefully preserved and tamed by the touch of the metal, the satisfaction of the stream of blood trickling down your arm. Its an undiscovered world present in a small space, waiting to explode to tell its miseries, but even then still content in itself. Its a dangerous world capable of many horrors as well as great deeds. Its one of the greatest wonders and mysteries present in each soul in this earth. It is Beautiful.