Incomplete

It's amazing to see how whimsical emotions are. A device of pure unadulterated expression. And more am I awed to see how they closely vanguard the very nature of your character, your being. From being explosive, vicious and vindictive, a spur of spontaneity, guilty wrath to a shower of pearls, cleaved to pain, embarrassment, mourning, a blank visage to stare; from being a surreptitious smile trying to hide under the chasms of innocence, to a pot of joy waiting to explode, and thank the world for adorning life.

Endless.

But even then I sometimes feel they can prove short, or they are unable to describe the beauty of some things to the optimum level. That they are the perpetrators of only the strong emotions, a highly viscous fluid. Which somehow cease to flow. Thick like honey, tingling only the strongest of the senses. Friend of the mighty, the strong, those who can withstand. They can't hope to portray normalcy, daily monotonous lives, or the little joys and sorrows that somehow keep it from falling apart. It is one void for which their are no tears, a tussle for which there is no anger, a drizzle for which their is no love, a sunlit day for which there are no placid smiles..

I shall pay for every lie that I have uttered, for every moment I have spent in deception. I know. And I shall pay in good measure.

I am incorrigible and have never been able to figure out why. A very weak will power at work. Which can't put together itself. Thus I shall pay for the course of my actions.

When I stand at His gates, crying for mercy, begging and pleading, like every weak, corrupt person does, a pathetic sight, I hope not to be spared, to be lashed, to be burnt in the ires of hell.

I won't be able to stand, I know, it shall be disgusting.

I have started referring to Him a lot suddenly. It's not because I have had a change of heart or have turned into a believer. It's because with time you learn to accept that you can't escape the confines of society. You have to live with them. Like you can't escape air, even though you might want to. Moreover the idea, the whole concept is so fascinating, so luring, so lucrative to think about and mock or create a facade that you relate to it, just because others relate, it makes you stay and get wrapped in boundaries of the concurring irrationalities.

Er I guess I am just not in the mood.. pissed off I suppose.. I suppose it's not easy as people say to pen down your thoughts when you're experiencing a strong mixture of emotions.. I guess you're pre-occupied more with the current ordeal.. I don't know if it's better when they're induced through careful prudent thoughts.. Anyways..

A sagacious silence over the charred scene prevails

Where countless shadows hath rift apart

A deceitful sight, worthy of contempt

Image of a tearful girl, it imparts

Signing off once again, parting with time, just to meet, like old friends, some lonely path.

Dreams are too common for love. Makes them less valuable.

They can only fuel passion for other things.

And love is too rare to be reciprocated.

The verbose of my feelings can only deceive It lures the mind into a quagmire of emotions And beneath those thick layers of impetuous, credulous thoughts Lie sapphires to unravel from the oceans of commotion

Teasing the very fabric of nature Creating ripples, the wind glides along And within this air of flirt, rain materialises Returns into the inviting womb, to the earth where it belongs

People who have facades of happiness glittering on their faces

Have dark black sadness smouldering between them

Excerpts

I know its not a thing to be mad about.. I am seriously starting to think of going to the school counselor.. Nobody is able to help me.. I now hate being social.. to talk.. I want to sink in the memories.. the songs.. the "real world".. I know I am bugging you for so long.. I know I have been acting highly stupid and childish.. I know people take me now as a dying creature.. maybe as an actor.. but I can't help it.. I have tried.. put in my best efforts.. but now I am starting to love this.. and hating it immensely at the same time.. Its beyond understanding.. beyond anything I have encountered so far.. Its alien.. and addictive.. I don't write this to be comforted.. to be pitied upon.. to be advised.. or to be shown a greater light.. Because I know they are failed causes.. But as a personal diary.. to relieve me.. I like this virtual world with confined places.. with greater boundaries than possible in the human world.. the power of the pen.. the realism in the atmosphere..

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 marred

Snippets

I am in between some happy and sad mood. Well and I am trying to hold on to the good one. Evading the urge to write another poem, to introspect. Awkward situation. Well you could say I am escaping, hiding. Even if confronting it produces better results or the satisfaction or rather it's the illusion, the addiction, the veil, it holds in store too much pain. Pain which only you get addicted to over time. A world which you can only abhor and equally crave for it at the same time. Pure lucrative veneer of promises which although hollow provide you with a haven to fuel your untamed world. A virgin place just for your eyes; of explosive, ferocious emotions, waiting to tell its miseries but even then content in itself. Bound by flesh, fueled by blood and lighted by the metal. Self-sufficient. It requires all your mental restraint to get consumed by this ethereal beauty that every mind is capable of delivering. True isn't it? We fail to see what lies in front of us. Hear the lullabies that we have been listening to since when we were toothless wonders. Unaware of the very existence of this immense power that lies in each of us.

Standing on the edge of this insatiable void
The heart reverberates across the boundless sea
Craving for a decision that shall decide its fate
Light or its nemesis it shall breathe.


Btw, I guess I just wanted to write something so thanks for bearing me.