Creeping into Darkness

Crept into the cursed corner of my darkened dwelling –
When the accusation of innocent hours defunct me.
The silence of crowd penetrated my being with countless venomous darts,
My affectionate heart blackened by her rancorous touch;
When all the companions obscured my sight like stormy clouds
The voiceless scream palpitate my innermost rhythm with sarcasm,
When world’s all perplexities became incomprehensible statements,
And all arguments culminated in mockery and all seriousness into irony,
The Epitomes enraged a battle against each other in falsified manner,
And love deformed into an exchange of materialistic possessions,
Life lived by sensibility of cognizance where only nothingness nurtured,
And death reformed the world inexorably into a sane factor,
That delineated the whole play terminating all hope to the brink of bathos,
Where I no more contemplate my endeavors and-
That is when I crept into the cursed corner of my darkened dwelling . . .

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Call of Uncertainty

Gathering of thousand feelings in my lonesome engagement-
Amidst chaos of my flattered obscure thoughts- I shattered,
And scattered; moistened and bedewed by my doubtful nature-
Where silence of crowd bothers me; smothering grip upon my neck,
I feel pain such excruciating. Erotic-delicate-softened touch-
Of death alike. The hallowed ground is now fester’d by evil rapture,
The dyke broken and flood of blackish blood invading land of mortals,
And voices are drowned under sand of lies- gasping for air- air of truth.
Surface blackened by bloodless masqueraded faces; and there I sought for-
Absolute perfection- the rarest thing upon planet earth. But the errors,-
Delineated perfectly and I discerned their conspicuous decadence.
Then I excavated my Self from the grave of grasping hands of despair,
Still there left bits of me- Infected. Something alienated, so unknown creeping-
Through my veins- irresistible and incurable. My reformation- I may never-
Return and end up in my journey-
Nowhere – In nothingness.
The call of uncertainty screaming aloud . . .

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In the midst of a long lone night

In the midst of a long lone night,
Silence surrounding; silence within silence.
(Tick-tock – Tick-tock)except the clock ticking,
to mark the presence of time.
The clock, solely alive-breathing,
and this heart inside my chest-beating.
This dreadful night and a tiny crystallized dew drop-
crawling down through window glass,
Then hundreds came down, swarming
dazzling tiny sparkles,
reflecting the street light.
True, pure and beautiful..but
alive. Terrifying existence of nothingness.
A whisper aloud, buzzing around
and thriving negativity.
Time – drifting away in such swift mood
or it has stopped -numb.
Endless-pointless queries and this still-ness
creeping through the veins.
Words faded away from a book-aged,
from its curled yellowish pages.
Things unknown, letter enveloped- never opened,
mystery remained in mystery, unfolded.
Footprints those left long gone, withered.
Decaying walls- plasters falling,
softly-very slowly-dying,
memories engulfed and veiled in secrecy,
a life within life. A poem eluding,
arousal of worries; bitterness-hatred,
a darkness collapsing eventually.
Amidst a long lone night-
a night beneath starry sky; up above a lonely star fading.

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….an incomplete poem of a heart ache

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He demurred and in wild impulse tried to pull himself all together,
but being shattered; and left in fragments solely to grieve upon thoughts of her.
A swarthy complexion aroused on his face; an incisive direction he starts wading,
seeking for the edge where the path led; why angels became so deceiving?
Daylight began to cursing him and he ran into a darkened den,
and moon light turned into a cold, shining knife slicing his very skin.
O her face, her murmuring voice, her songs poisoning the eyes and the ear,
all her touches crawling beneath the skin, through blood into his heart further.

The very thoughts of her lured him to his certain demise . . .

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I exist and alive and now awakened . . .

Scream

Yet more a terrible journey and I waded far far away
The mind is in complete disarray; encroaching into a very mid-day.
I exist and alive; and now awakened but a weary sigh heaved
through nostrils toward my – Self; my being cleaved.
Etched on my mind the very illustration of my entangled past
enraged me whilst I watch memories buried underneath years of  dust.
Vivid-ness of a bright sun curtains my spectrum, my senses disavowed,
Away back somewhere a mystery may have unfolded and a ship wreck foreshadowed.
Be-wilderness devour my conscious yet I fly in tiresome direction
Over the beechen green of a nameless woodland, or may it my only fraction;
Wings spread out journey on such weary feathers anesthetizing momentum,
Up in the sky and beneath the sea, there betwixt lie bits of me undisturbed inside a sanctum.
The timeline past pulverized, only me and this very moment now left
standing at this edge, await to slog myself out of this mountain cleft.

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Death and Obscurity within

Loner

Standing beside my own shadow, I bowed in an obsequious manner,
unknowingly a fear horrid my senses, trembling in cold touch of nothingness,
a frenzy begins from my heart, drain’d through the blood devour’d my whole-ness,
agreed upon the uncertain faith; deadening queries, I sing with the graveside mourner.
Song I sung ~ song I sung; and gazing at a giant oak close to the grave-yard
atop there beseated a bronze throat howls; such a cry aloud and cursed.
The Gone has none to fear but those alive shudder’d, besieged by horror-
of the unknown alike demonic face appears, beguiled with fiery terror.
Sojourn of the mortal state as now passed into immortality
and my part ended here~I wade though the tombstones surrounds me
with an obscure sight, a futile attempt to decypher (thoughts within and) all this  perplexity.

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Thoughts

Pen

Counting each and every second,
Seeking for the perfection
In between.
Such queries – obsolete
Moments within –
I – the person lost beyond time
Such place to fit in- isolated
A lone spring
Wintery destruction
Amidst the shadows
Nights- writing cold, hopeless words
Do I belong to the poets of the fall(?)

© copyright protected 2012