White sheets

What happened to us ?
The shining couple in black and white .
Holding each other tight with sparks in our eyes
Similar to the ones ensnaring between us
Residing in our embrace
All the love that swelled from time on end
Where did it go ?
Where did it go ?

What happened to us ?
Our frivolous days of dusk to dawn
Of doing nothing but talk .
Small talk, big talk; then of future and dreams
Molded by everything festered in serious seams.
No fights, no anger, no nothing
Why did it go ?
Why did it go ?

What happened to us ?
In our exclusiveness
Pride in each other
Speaking so highly no roof could surround
Nobody would question the strength of our bonds
Stronger than anything ever found
So it seems
How did it go ?
How did it go ?

What happened to us ?
early morning breakfast
Meat never tasted so good .
Giggles about nothing
Lunch on the pier
Dinner in the sand
Lit by no fire
We were enough for all that
White sheets stained by blood
Breaking barriers, being teenagers
Did it not go ?
Did it not go ?

What happened to us ?
Smiles all around .
No offensive words
Late night talks , Compliments
Now replaced by anger
Accusations, tears
Your life’s blame on the shoulders of my small frame
I could not handle it
manage all the tasks entitled to me
When did it go ?
When did it go ?

What happened to us ?
you don’t understand
You can’t comprehend through the think skull enclosed by the hair you always want done
Issues, about body and complains. nothing else 
And you say I don’t talk
I’m not the one who’ll walk
Where did you go ?
Where did you go ?

What happened to us ?
Didn’t we wear our bulletproof vests ?
No amount of trouble could shun out the love
No amount of beasts could stop us
Now all we do is try to avoid .
Each other
Try to avoid the lobe
making not our eyes meet
Didn’t our eyes have those sparks ?
Light up when we saw each other
Cry from the corners when we didn’t ?
Remember those days when we would grab every opportunity .
Whilst we would hold it and cherish it
take it for granted
Considering how we are now
Unbound, uncoiled, unwound
Did it all go ?
Did it all go ?

What happened to us ?
For all you’ve become is consumed in A love that you cannot see nor touch nor feel .
You hold it down like it’s meant to rot
In the notches of your hands
It tries to escape but it cannot
You blissfully don’t care
If I see you, if I don’t
What ignorance, what blatant misuse of a connection
Will you not go ?
Will you not go ?

What happened to us ?
Weren’t we in love ?
Is there such a thing as love ?
Does it even exist
What a misunderstood entity
For it cannot.
Love does not grow on trees
And your money won’t buy it for me
So should I go ?
Should i go ?

What happened to us ?
Didn’t we say forever ?
Didn’t we say together ?
We are abrasive .
Strung by abrasive words not taken back
Little beads on chains we will never wear
Why ?
You went .
Away .

Ante meridiem 🌛

Oh tiredness, sinking in.
Into my bones, so withered, so dim.
Just like the lamp, under which I write.
Seeking tiny bliss in the pitch of night.

All the other words they’re such a muddle.
I feel like draining myself into a puddle.
I want to rest, I want to lay in the arms of sweet sleep.
But my words, these words, will my soul keep.

All the darkness, I still can’t fade.
I’m nothing but a human, man-made.
participating in the everyday affairs.
Which occupy little to none of my cares.

All these papers lie around me.
How did they get here ?
The white and black surrounds me.
With figure or cypher or letter.

Not a word to be heard but my constant mumble.
Under my breadth, oh grumble, grumble.
Leave me, please, you books on the table.
Go away, go away, I feel unstable.

Sleepless nights dawning,
Deep into the morning.
Bright sunshine will welcome.
Still I am stuck on one sum.

I’m drowned in my own brain,
Weilded into paper white.
So tired of this endless game.
And the lamp shines no more bright.

Perpetual ignomy.

Beneath the wreckage,  under the mass of sand,
Stretched out, pitifully,  a bloodied hand.
Hoping for a hold, praying for it to not be the same,
it was midnight again,
And nobody came.

Clutching a child, abandoned and distraught,
A woman, dead, victim of gunshot.
And the baby, crying, weeping to be found,
Through echoing bombs,
And the sound was drowned.

The rich and poor, slaves to the hand of man,
Shelters, overcrowded,  refugees lining the stands,
Starving and helpless, beyond broken to berepaired,
It was tomorrow again,
And nobody cared.

The slaughter of innocent,  as if they were prey,
The wretchedness of people, disgraced, wanting to play.
Triggers tickling to be pulled, bombs waiting to detonate,
There was plenty of time left,
Yet they will not wait.

War, the killer, the bane of mankind,
Which starts as a flash, to give sight to the blind,
Ends in agony,  and raging despair.
And Innocence being murdered everywhere.

The broken houses and burning trees,
Stand still in the sun.
The bombs keep on falling, even if the battle is won.
The cries don’t die out, they blend with the wind,
And blow on everyone irrespective ,
The pure and the sinned.

The soldiers, confused, why must they kill?
The plaque of war, not much of a thrill.
Dispatching the multitude of citizenry.
Is it worthy to have the innocuous at your mercy?

The violence unappealing,  the bloodshed and gore,
Why would anyone ever delve into war?
Simple words can change millions of lives,
Than the dreadfulness of war, where everyone dies.

Peace to be practiced,  this we pray today,
So that none may be killed, and plenty saved.

Strange 3 a.m. rants. 👾

If there is one thing I’d absolutely  love,
Is to tear out my brain.
Ply it into sheets.
Of emotions and pain.
And figure it all out,
Pry out the truth.
In all my bitter memories,
Featured in my youth.

I want to know, if I’m really mad,
Or just a right soul in a world full of bad.
If I’m neurotic, psychotic; what am I really?
I need to uncover who is the real me.

Am I bound to be a forever sad soul?
Despair leaking from dusk to dawn.
empty, broken, disposed,
White wings of a black swan.
Or do I like sunshine, rainbows, beautiful endings.
Tears of laughter, smiles all around.
Happiness resonating through all the words of my poems.
Reigning my life’s  hopes, dreams so profound.

Is there any love left in me?
Or am I just deprived so callously.
Is it all the black rot of hate,
Which fills up my brain like food on  a plate?

Pretense. Oh pretense. It devours all my thoughts.
My brain has always been puzzed by me.
I say I hate them. I proclaim I hate them!
And then I speak to them so sweetly.
Am I just another faker,
am I just another cheat.
Because I’m not good at this
Whole concept of deceit.

And my knowledge, sense, where do they disappear?
Do they leak through my nose, or leave trhough my ear?
Do I have air for trouble, can I be fun,
Disaster of all disasters, or a disaster, just one?

I’m a mess, a muddle, and decipher can I not.
Even if my brain was in writing to tell me what I’ve got.
All blotted and parched will be the sheets of my brain.
Maybe just a mask for being quite insane.

The Epiphany Of Nothing.

Who are you then?
Out of the ordinary-
Transcendental, or just a disturbance?
You repel, you destroy; arrive only to deploy.
Watched then waited, and struck when tender,
As if it were a gift, a one to remember.
You wrecked perfection, threw red on the canvas of life.
You waged a battle, with a heart in strife.
You hurt a soul, not once but plenty.
And it allowed you so blatantly.

You are disgraceful and deceptive,
A spineless fail.
A mass of bones, all white and pale;
Unlike yourself , so indulged in infliction.
You speak and think, out of conviction.
You are not worthy, and you did not care,
Of anything around you and the atmosphere and air,
Smelt stale in your presence , and wrenched as you passed;
You are a contradiction, tangled by the murder of hearts.

You are inhumane, yet you think you’re so fine.
You believe that you will be nothing , if it weren’t for lying.
You are nothing more than a nothing, a suppressed nullity,
A void unto itself, lifeless and weak.
You are a shuddering repugnance, don’t you ever feel?
That your bitter self, will one day be killed?

You slandered and slew, and ripped into bits,
The hearts that you’ve stolen, cutting at the incisions and slits.
How do you live, in a life so wilt,
Don’t you ever feel remorse or a streak of guilt ?

I detest you. I loathe you.
You are an insignificant nobody.
Now you are just a string of images and words,
Stored in the great box of my memory.
Even the brightest of colours tarnish as you proceed,
You are lurid, horrendous, the cause of my lividity.

But you are dead to me, and you do not belong.
In the words of this poem, or the notes of a song.
You do not need place, just a caving hollow-
Where you can live in misery ,
And all your vices can follow .

So who are you then?
A creature so fake,
Soulless, clearly not one of God’s make.
Then surely you are a being of Satan himself,
Born out of iniquity and sin, in the fires of hell.

You are nothing.
Soulless, devoid, compassionless.
A wasted being, so terribly merciless.
You are the subtle manifestation of nothing,
And that is all you’ll be,
A non existent entity.

Pieces.

We are broken, like a window been tampered,
With shards of glass tearing at our feet.
We are dead like the flowers of winter,
Coated with an icy sheath.

We are like the sun beyond the auburn sea,
Which resonates and bleeds, and leaves with no company.
Like an old classic that was daily sung,
A tune of ashen memory, bright while young .

We are the shipwreck forgotten, for years and on end,
A dead man’s chest buried, deep in the bed.
Tepid and cold, like a once flickering spark,
And now the lights have gone out, and we are in the dark.

You were the greatest asset, a part of my soul,
And as you diminished, you left a gaping hole.
You strayed away, while I stayed put,
I kept on promising , while both of us should.

We are the story that was all figured out,
A plan built in our memory, to execute without doubt.
But just like a novel, who’s writer was fated to be deceased,
With the end remaining unwritten, the story partial and incomplete.

I try to exempt you from my thoughts, I try to forget,
Even though it’s all over, standing on the brink of regret.
Each day that passes I wish I had no memory,
To ever remember you, or what you meant to me.

Beseeching for your presence, I wish some force summons you here,
To fix my broken soul, to renew every tear.
Because of you, and for you I have shed,
And to give back those days I’d spent wishing I was dead.

They say its just a phase, that we’ll be all right,
That every tunnel has an opening that is blinding with light.
But they don’t know how my heart did you steal,
And now it’s just agony of loss that I feel.

We are over like the final act on stage,
With an ending so shocking, one we didn’t anticipate.
Now we are just a memory unkempt, and to bury in time,
And one day I will get mended, to claim I am fine.

This is my creed.

This is my creed,
My borne beliefs,
My section of postulates, of what I believe.
If people do question me, this is what I will say.
Of my thoughts on the world and passing, each day:

If you are better than them they claw you,
and try to pull you down,
If you are lesser than them they gnaw you,
and stamp till you drown.
So I never show the covetous deceives,
My ability to power and your will to achieve.

They will judge you for your looks, they will judge you for your skin,
They will judge if you aren’t tall and beautiful and thin.
They will mock you of your thoughts, your ideas; your notions,
They will label you and grade you, based on your feelings and emotions.
I do not fall for their system, their display of despair,
And stand tall against the haters, pretend not to care.

And as always, the friends, some true and some fake,
Some with you for friendship, some  for namesake.
They flatter you with appraisal, and behind it they all,
Wait for a chance for you to get knocked down and fall.
So I stay aware of their falsity, the fake phony fools,
And never give them a chance or play by their rules.

And of family and kinsfolk, they always come first.
For friends may forsake you, in times of the worst.
They may laugh at your  failure, then what will you do?
It’s family that will always save you.
Before man or woman, or love or friends,
Family matters, till the very end.

Love, my favorite, the sweet delicacy,
To love is so simple, to be loved is a dream.
Some say they don’t believe in it, well to each its own,
But for me love is magic, a truth behold.
It makes you feel better in sadness and dread,
And you could live in that mixed moment, and never forget.

And yes I’m a believer of God, who is high above,
Who powders the world and showers it with love.
The Supreme Being above us, who watches what we do,
The deity of divinity, Maker of good.

Everyday that passes, I’d add a little more,
Of what I believe in, of what I cerebrate,
But it’d go on forever, and tired we’d be;
Of reading something entitled, “This is my creed.”