~*~*~
As a child, I was always told,
Never to use the word “hate”,
For feelings of real hatred
Are always more vehement,
Than words we say in anger,
These words that sting like poison.
They forgot to tell me,
That the word “love”
Is much stronger when used,
And harsher when said in vain,
Especially if you are at
The receiving end, waiting.
~*~*~
~*~*~
Sometimes you pine for what you’ve never had,
Sometimes you pine for what you’ve lost,
And cry rivers for unrequited love,
When you’ve lost more than what it cost.
Yet never do you learn to appreciate,
The wildflowers peeking through the cracks,
When red roses wilt, wither, and die, you mourn,
Though wildflowers strive to brighten up the track.
These roads leading to the walls of your heart
Can be tread by a select few,
Yet you never care to take the path,
Of one whose heart beats just for you.
And then you say there is no one in this world,
Who can stand by your side for life.
For the ones you would follow to the end,
Are the ones who left in the midst of strife.
So you pine for what you’ve never had,
You pine for what you’ve lost,
And continues this vicious mess,
Where you gain nothing more than loss.
~*~*~
~*~*~
Summer has come and gone,
And the fragrance of these soft memories,
Hang heavy in the air.
Leaving traces of a life I once had,
Lingering on in the touch of your breath,
Fleeting, always fleeting, never to be caught,
These memories I have tried so hard to hang on to.
Memories, forgotten or destroyed.
~*~*~
~*~*~
My only sin was to love you unconditionally,
But the price I am now paying.
I shall not love ever again,
As long as I take this breath of mortal life,
For in me is dead, the fire of life.
Only empty cold stone continues to exist.
He was a man who calculated the value of all
With the weight of paper and metal.
I must go on, as life is a gift far too precious,
A gift I would discard,
If only I could weigh it out with gold.
But life is far beyond the tangible we seek,
It can never be bought back,
Nor can one life be replaced with another.
He was a man who knew no sentiment,
Except for that of his own.
Must I feel for my entire life,
This agony I feel slowly poisoning my heart?
It seeps beneath my skin, burning like acid,
Killing me softly,
But only in the mind and soul,
As my body lies untouched.
He was a man who had everything one could want,
But valued nothing except the immaterial.
I am physically alive,
What good is a body enslaved by mental pain?
No, I am dead in every aspect,
Dead as the rotting wood in the backyard,
Dead for the maggots of the mind and heart to take over,
And eat, till nothing of me is left.
He was a man who was a victim of greatness,
Such that he could see nothing beyond himself.
There is only an emptiness,
A void were life should have been.
The noise of the vacuum becomes deafening,
As it grasps onto every aspect of my life.
This broken heart has consumed all,
Such that even the bowels find themselves empty.
He was a man who towered over giants,
The very giants who made him a man.
Where tears should be, I have only dry cheeks.
Where a smile paints itself, the paint runs dry.
Where passion should be, exists only apathy.
Where love should be, only indifference is supplied.
For it is the emptiness in me which speaks aloud,
Emptiness which lives, and which shall die.
He was a man who knew no boundaries,
Save for the limitations of his empty heart.
I can feel a phantom pain where my heart should have been,
The heart which was torn out
And shredded a million times over.
This empty pain shall be with me always,
Haunting me till the ends of time,
As once amputated, it can never be regrown.
He was a man who knew how to live,
But never knew the feeling of being alive.
What is this emptiness which has consumed me?
Leaving behind regrets for me to feed on,
And I am pondering, wondering, where did I go wrong?
But the answers remain hidden.
And so I live a mere shadow of a life,
All because my only sin was to love you unconditionally.
He was a man whom I once dared to love,
Until he chose to leave me forsaken.
~*~*~
~*~*~
Some days I look upon the sky,
With a singing in my heart.
Some days the singing turns in to
Voices I once sought.
“Leave not, leave not!” in despair,
My heart does always shout.
Alas, in the end,
You’re gone my friend,
In the end you’ve left without a thought…
~*~*~
The despair, the agony, the pain of living,
How difficult it is to endure.
My heart longs for this last breath,
As the distance darkens between us.
Was it too much for me to ask,
Or only too much for you to give?
My grief has blinded,
Taken away even the faintest glimmer of light,
As the world falls asunder.
The dawn brings no warmth,
Twilight brings no chill,
And I am falling deeper,
Into the depths of dolorous passion,
As I close my eyes one last time,
And take this final breath…
~*~*~
Sinking deep into my solitude,
Longing for a future I can never have.
The past echoes my feelings,
But the present sings an alien song.
Hope poisons this broken heart,
Clouding this mind.
This is the end my friend,
The end.
~*~*~
~*~*~
‘Twas the song of a solitary nightingale,
The sadness and beauty satiated the air with warmth.
Ne’er hath this heart within me been so lively,
As when thou looked into mine eyes and saw my soul.
Oh, this evanescence of beautiful dreams,
Had they lingered even the length of a moment longer,
Their beauty would have faded into the night,
Leaving a soft mist in place of these dreams of mine heart.
When I dream of thee in the wisp of the night,
I feel thy presence around me, e’en in mine heart.
And I wish the night stretches on for eternity,
That I might feel thy friendship wrapping around me always.
Thou art the cherry blossoms in early spring,
Showering this earthen beauty with thy soft petals.
The branches heavy with thy goodness and love,
And a promise, in the heart of thy admirer, for a new dawn.
The reflections on the flowing river, of a sun recently risen,
The birds singing their morning songs of joy.
Unquenchable thirst for time to come to a standstill,
Mine heart divided between my wish and the will of thy mind.
Thy voice lingers in the air, my thoughts inundated by thee,
My voice beckons thee to hold me in thine arms.
I wait, eagerly, desperately, to hear the faintest reply,
But the silence, so deafening, returns me not a sound.
The moonlight illuminates, when the sun hath set,
Only thy voice can brighten the shadows of mine heart.
Silently I pine in the darkness, for a glimmer of light,
Fading, falling, into these endless depths.
If thou hadst known the turmoil of mine heart,
Would thou hast left me more than the touch of thy breath?
Nay, to thee, I was but a stranger, no different from another
To me, thou wast mine only reason to smile.
~*~*~
~*~*~
Let me die in thine arms,
So the death I die may bring to me happiness.
I could have thee not in this life I lived,
Might I have thee in my death.
I love thee so, my dearest one.
Thou art all I wish to touch,
Thou art all I want to see,
Before these eyes close forever.
Love me dearest, before I go,
For I shall love thee for all eternity.
Hold me before I die dearest, hold me please,
Before my last breath tears us apart silently.
~*~*~
I still remember the day these photographs were taken. It seems like another life or a dream too good to be true. It was a dream too good to be true. Those were the happy days, that are no more.
~*~*~
Muse
‘Twas a soft song in the air,
That whispered dreams into mine ears.
Butterflies stroked the summer rays,
With the beat of their gentle wings.
These dreams did fill mine heart,
With little joys meant to disappear.
The warmth of the wildflowers,
Did touch this lost soul from within.
The softness of thy voice,
Struck a chord in mine heart.
Thou lovingly tuned the strings of my soul,
And made me thy muse much loved.
The sky blushed from adoring innocence,
As the music of mine heart hung heavy in the air.
The sweetness of thy song,
Filled my world with everlasting hope.
Honeybees suckled in pools of nectar,
Flowers grew brighter at every passing day.
Dewdrops on the grass glistened in the morning,
Dancing to the melody that filled the sweet air.
Thou played thy muse so lovingly,
In tune with the song of thy heart.
Ne’er hadst the world heard such love,
Sung from the common core of two souls come together.
Thou wast an artist, in love with thy instrument,
Caressing her strings gently, lest they break.
All were in awe of thy heart’s warming music,
Most of all thy own muse who sang.
Thou ne’er let another touch her,
She sang only the will of thine heart.
A queen she was, in the palace of thy verse,
Thou inspired reverence in her eyes.
With use, the best of things, wear out,
As didst the muse of thine heart, thy love.
An instrument old, is meant to be forsaken,
Yet thou didst not wish to give up thy love.
Artiste thou wast, thou art, thou shalt always be,
Thine heart wast ne’er mine, but of thy talent.
If only, mine heart could be an instrument more skilled,
Might thou ne’er hast left me.
Sadly, ’twas a time long ago,
Now the strings of mine heart lie broken,
The once magical muse abandoned.
An instrument unskilled for the artist,
Has no fate but everlasting silence,
As the virtuoso finds himself a muse better suited.
Alas, this muse forsaken, heartbroken, forgotten,
Lays down to sleep, forever, under the misty sky.
~*~*~
I am the darkness, the darkness me,
What no light can pierce for all of eternity…
‘Twas but a silent song I sung with eloquence that night,
Which brought with it unrequited love,
And the will to give up this life.
The music in the air did fill this forsaken heart,
To stone it turned so fast, my love, love it was no more.
Unfathomable Darkness fell, abysmal was the light.
The tears came shining through inconspicuously,
These tears as black as night.
They fell, they burned, so silently, aghast that they exist.
Yet, who could see these tears so black, in darkness that persists?
The aim was precise, the arrow sharp,
It split the black heart, one half a mirror image of the other.
Slowly they crumbled, until nothing was left,
A dark chill filled the night air, a chill that lingered on for eternity.
And the arrow was lost in the abyss of yore.
Unfathomable Darkness fell, abysmal was the light.
Forever walk all broken souls, under the starry sky.
The moonlight creeps, as darkness streaks,
But even swindled rays from the moon cannot rupture,
The air that reeks of this infinite darkness.
A heart once crushed, can weep no more,
As a shattered vase must remain empty of flowers.
How broken glass cuts, drawing dark blood,
So do the minute fragments of the heart pierce the soul.
Yet this I ask, what blood hath the soul to offer?
Unfathomable Darkness fell, abysmal was the light.
This shattered heart brought darkness deep into my life,
‘Tis my soul which is left empty to the very brim.
Shrouded by these voices, chanting over and over again,
As the stench of death hangs heavy in the darkened sky.
‘Twas the death of a life I once dared to wish for,
The end of all dreams, one can say.
I was plunged into waves of the blackest darkness,
Which turned into a Tsunami and destroyed my banks.
Where do I go for relief, where do I go to recover?
Unfathomable Darkness fell, abysmal was the light.
I could watch the shadows dance, in the black of night.
A heart once mended can never work as well as one born new.
Like the boughs burdened with cherry blossoms,
This obscurity of the past weights down upon me, oh, so cruel.
I am the darkness, the darkness me,
What no light can pierce for all of eternity…
Oh, dear dreary darkness of this dreadful life. Will thou not let the drudgery of thy mind be washed away with the rays of the sun? Let it shine through the cracks of the walls thou built within thine head, let the rays with their own force, break apart these walls, and let in the fresh air. This damp and deeply pungent scent in the air, banish it with the warmth of thy mind opening up to accept the golden rays. Oh, dear dreary darkness of this dreadful life…when will thee let in the light?
Aye, this eternal sadness of the mind inflicts upon thee a sickness, the curse of a broken heart. The agony becomes ubiquitous, flowing into every crack and imperfection of thy mind. Oh, if only our minds were immaculate, such that the despair, desperately looking for a hiding place, would find none and slip off the surface like water on glass.
Love dies the death of a miscreant, yet with it lies dead the hero, Trust. We never fall for the villain’s treachery twice, but when the death of a dream takes place, when all Trust is lost, what will aid this broken heart? When all Trust is lost, with whom do we grieve this shattered heart? Say a day comes in our life, when we find we cannot even bank upon ourselves, what is it that we must do? Must we sink into the ground and die a desired death?
If we were such stuff that dreams are made of, then the empty heaviness of the heart would not matter. The heart would lie silent, subdued by the stars sparkling in the night sky. The whispers in the air would bring comfort, a longing to live a wonderful life, even if the life demands we must live it alone. Dreams would carry us in their arms, sing us a lullaby, and soften our eyelids with faint traces of star-dust. Aye, but the dreams have broken, leaving us empty and cold. Why live this life with a broken heart and shattered dreams? Why go on?
Alas, the heart lies tattered and torn, in the darkness of a new moon night. The dreams lie strewn haphazardly, shivering on the snow-covered ground. All that is heard echoing in the silence of the depths of time is a faint whimper, then deafening silence once again…
Inside the Mind of a Lunatic 