Chapter 6

Swollen State

Burnt body, charred soul, drowned in the alcohol,

Not able to rise up or stand on my forbidden land,

Left thin and lean, glean, but still not clean,

Have faint marks on my body and have rusted glands.

Fight, fight, fight and all I could just do I write

These words of mine describe my hidden plights,

Living on the edge of every breathe I take,

Life for me is on the verge of make or break.

I empty my spirit in the spirits on a daily basis,

Cigarette butts fly on around me as the seconds races,

In need of these sources to block my mind from those faces,

I don’t care the suffering what my body chases.

Left alone time to straighten up,

Need to take a break and give myself a strong pump,

I take my bike and move on to a destination unknown,

Leaving behind the memories of mine thrown.

Chapter 2 - Aftermath

Time to magnify my horizons, search for clues,

It’s now time I find right feet for those shoes,

Been lost for so long, that people call me sulky,

Move and shake on, stop making your heart bulky.

Yes, it hurts to revert back from those moments,

But now I have to realise they were futile ornaments,

Invested heavily in them, those turned out to be false,

I’ll probably wait for some one to come, certainly when the heaven calls.

Time for the windmills to churn the wheat again,

The sunflower to bend towards the sun again,

Let the dragonflies raze over the fields,

I’ll write these poems and they will be my shield.

Even if I stood a chance,

It was too late just to give a chance,

I’m now a free bird, from those overgrown,

Overgrown premature yet so soft memories of hers.

Black Magic

Frozen, fallen from that iceberg
he slipped into the cold blue river,
entering the deep abyss of that mystery,
was the never ending road that lead to the black glory.

He could hear the wolves howling out to the moon,
there weren't no witches around with their old brooms,
it was just the old man watching and sitting ,
with his eyes ever up rolled.

The match sticks were oil slicked,
their lustre was marked with the sparks of past,
and so were lost the silver lining moments,
filled with hollow dignity of that old man.

That old road he followed from a long time,
rusted and burned out that path led to nowhere,
several voices in his head lead him to the days,
days that were filled with the black magic of the woman.

Shifting, riveting and adjusting he mended his ways finally,
people called him a lunatic, but he only knew,
knew that this highway lead him to the antidote,
antidote, erased his longingness towards that magical blackness.............


"People say that love hurts...
love is just a delusional part of their character,
what hurts is their inability to love someone."
-Mohan(21/01/2011)