We’ve been tied as inseparable beads in a string of never-ending desires, The friction between us sparks beautiful fire, the fire swirls around and burns the world down, and this friction spreads like a disease- every inch of us gets covered in marks of wicked sins, the fire still burns but not in our hearts, it burns down our soul as we turn into cannibals, feasting everyday on a new victim, Unknowingly, we become our own victims and turn criminals to our deeds, we are the inseparable beads- does the world wear us as a bracelet and weeps for every fallen soul? Our desires poison our souls and what’s left of the heart gets eaten by us.
The world is breaking and shaking under the tremendous pressure of heartbreaks, it isn’t the brooding of some lost romance but the death of hearts all over again- How many more will we dig up and bury and dig up and bury, what will we do with no ground left? We’ll probably be the Vikings then, The seas and oceans will become the graveyards and after a while, there’ll be no place, How many tremors of earthquake will rumble and make us fall all over again, before we save ourselves, what if it gets too late.
The world is alive and the world is dead bodies have been piled up with no regrets, Regret, it has already died- its body has been decomposed and now its soul lingers inside hollow bones and muscles, imaginary life that can be preserved, It’s too late, Is it too late? Who knows when we’ll be saved, Who knows when we’ll save ourselves from us, others from us? What if it is the end, What if we were born to plunge into doom, What if it ends with us?
If there existed only sunrise with no sunset, would the world still suffice? Leaving all scientific reasons behind, would our heart love the phenomena and bask in the evergreen sunlight? There would be no dusk, no scenery to soothe, no moon to talk to, no stars to call to, there would be no hope for a Tomorrow or a next Today, as we may say, our souls would be lost in a blinding light with no calmness at bay- Happiness follows sorrow Sunrise follows Sunset, and for the lovers of night- Sunset follows Sunrise, be it the light of the day or the dark of the night, souls will be enlightened only when the two entwine.
War has begun, people have been killed- some bodies were buried, some were burnt- some lay dead on a foreign land with no grave or name, The dimensions have started falling apart, signals have been broken, relations stand broken- the world steers clear of any redemption and with a smile, we heave- Life goes on. Battles are ending, and beginning again- Proving one’s point may take some time, Blood, sweat, tears of brethren- The chilled blood of dying folk, the tired sweat of a barely living family, and the ocean of tears of a destroyed civilization, and with a smile, we heave- Life goes on. Somewhere lost in smoke and fire, she lays buried with our kins behind, wondering why our hearts burn in a vengeful spirit of loathe, and how when the two road diverge, we choose the path more travelled- with destruction and chaos as our chauffeurs and sins as our kins, we choose the path of hunger for power over the kindness of Peace, She lays in hopes of being chosen, Yet we choose Power over Peace.
We have been studying ‘In memory of W.B. Yeats’ in Modern Poetry and this line is glued to my soul and mind. Even after my death, my work will keep on living. This thought soothes my soul. In ‘To the Lighthouse’ by Virginia Woolf, Lily Briscoe was able to preserve her life in the form of her painting as well. We should keep on living while doing what our heart approves of and we’ll be able to outlive time in the form of the work we do.
Was Poseidon hated when he turned her world into a barren land with weeds of disaster seeping from every corner and darkness engulfed her paradise, Was he put through the altar of Justice, or was he treated as a God, God! the poor girl wept, Alas! Was it the fault of her beauty that she was robbed of, her hair turned serpents, her humanity was robbed, only for Perseus to kill her off- her eyes petrified souls, But wasn’t she the victim here? Medusa lay dead, a priestess who was betrayed, Raped- and Poseidon had a glorious fate, Is it how the generations have been passing their Justice, with the evil at throne and innocence lying dead in thorns?
Death awaits Life holding blooming lilies, Let’s start it one last time before everything disappears, before the horizons fade away- The world was living and dying with a compromise that was made, Life got measured in decades and vanished when breathing strangled death, but rising waves were strangled as well- It was a game of give and take, Now all’s done and nothing’s done Yet, the doors have opened and closed, the lilies will soon wilt as well as end comes near Life awaits Death.
Alluring robes of silk and satin cover the scars, a tradition passed down the ages to soothe poison with poison to severe pain with pain tied to a cycle of unchanging change- We’ve been lost in an oasis of appearances and glamour, while we wander around for a place to belong with no home, no hope, no harmony inside we search for Atlantis outside, As if everything would fall into one place, the puzzle would be solved and our souls won’t ache, We inflict scars upon our hearts, Then wonder about the ointments’ power- Glamourous bodies wrapped in flesh, When will we let our souls stand naked?