Under the soothing whirr,
Diving into this neverland amongst the chirping,
Here in this languid world,
You await, clad in silver,
Gathering Frost as you go deeper and deeper,
Looking at world, stars and universe alike,
As galaxies and galaxies pass,
Eternities flow by you.
You await and abide tolerantly,
Until the sands of time turn and bow to you.
This frosting darkness and haunted serenity;
Lies at your feet;
For your will overcomes the wonders of nature.
One after the other,
Slowly, trickling by,
The sheet wets.
As howls echo throughout,
A strange frost crushes her heart.
Everything at beck and call;
The perfect life seems broken to her.
Rescue me;
Her wordless screams go unheard.
Inexplicable pulses,
Each stabbing deeper.
Trembles rock her throughout;
As she struggles to gain courage,
Not to keep up the sprint,
But to stop;
Stop and jump.
So hard it is to tell you,
But even harder is the vexation inside.
Incredibly hard it is to lose you all,
Even harder it is to lose myself.
Akin to a whirlpool,
Gobbling me up,
Is the alter ego inside.
I beg to find the reason, strive to stop it,
Only to find it is to no avail.
Preposterous does everyone find my turmoil,
No pillars to support this formation.
A single one can’t stop quintals and tons,
For it is only a matter of time,
Before it turns to nil.
This timorem, vexating and perturbing,
How long, I wonder, would it stay silent,
Waiting for the time of it’s life.
Does it even have a life, I wonder?
Maybe it sure does, for it sure has a voice.
A voice defying me.
A stranger inside.
Bizzare it is for all,
A dread invoker it is, for me.
A pillar for the dark side, it remains,
Pushing me to quit, to stop.
Quitting is the absolute bliss,
Remains its ultimate banal.
Maybe it is, sometimes I wonder.
A single mind is prone to brainwash.
Maybe multiple aren’t?
Since the stranger can only talk to me.
Stigmatism remains another.
Invoking terror, fear of abandonment.
So I fill the bottles and keep doing it
With the hope they never run out.
But like all, everything does.
So one day, when neither
This stranger nor me are around,
The pillars to a fallen formation weep,
Only to realize it is already too late.
Afraid of listening.
Anxious.
Nervousness is my second skin.
Your words make me so.
What would I do to myself if I really listen?
I shudder even at the thought of it.
Do you not claim to love me?
If this is how love is…
Forgive me.
I’d rather not let it rule my mirrory heart.
How can you make me hate ballads?
Soft as they are, they let your words penetrate through.
Your cruelty might be unintentional.
But it sears through.
The bells of the temple ring
Making my hold tighter
As your shoulder gets wet
By my desperate cry
I dread to think of someone else
Holding you the way I do
My heart stops dangerously
When I hear them pulling you away…
Away somewhere to someone else,
Claiming you.
Your warmth still tingling on my finger tips
Making me shudder.
God be damned, if separation of this pulsating love
Is what he wishes,
Just because we are against the nature.
Coward is her name.
Cowering in her safe space, stowing away all the fears.
Locked up in a treasure box,
One that no one desires.
Pleas and screams all long forgotten.
Rescue abandoned.
Wordlessly taking it all in.
Silent screams stomping on her pulp of heart.
Nothing remained.
Hope? Nay. He’s long absconded.
What is to remain?
Oh holy…
What has remained?
Path to path, you switch,
With snow on your lips and dread on your heart.
A wanderer have you become,
O desperate one.
What has made your heart so heavy?
Why does your lament seem oh so loud?
What does your regretful heart miss?
Is it that warm embrace that you pushed away?
Don’t fret, my dear wanderer.
Because, love won’t commit the mistake your vanity did.
O wanderer, your laments may end now.
Just for how long…
How long did I listen to conclude…
To conclude that my own emotions are wrong?
How can a feeling be wrong?
How can my sadness be drama?
Is it humanly possible to fake such painful feelings?
Just how long do I have to convince myself that nothing is wrong?
Just how long?
Till the moment I realize life has ran out of me?
Just like now?
Is it too late?
Is it too sinful to want to be happy?
How can I love myself?
How can I not live in the past?
How can I ‘fucking move on’ like they shout?
Overwhelming.
That is what it is.
Would it be wrong to ask for a break?
Because it seems… My tears have run out.
It seems… My bitterness is taking over.
My emotions have blanked out.
Let me rest… Just for a moment…
So that when I wake up, I can at the least hope to be honest to myself.
Dashing, caressing her resting skin,
Peacefully lilting those delicate senses;
Awakening her into a painfully sweet blanket of love,
Throwing her soft heart into palpitations;
Singing to her, putting the rose glasses on,
Being a reminder of his velvety voice;
Forcing confrontation with the equation of love,
Is the winter fog, scintillating and decorating her bare world.
Jingling bells, chortling voices.
Unending hope, countless prayers.
Optimism flew around, in plenty.
Smiling, contented spectators.
Light lay at the end of the tunnel, they said.
Yes.
It did.
It was one that’d steal the light of life from her.
The prodigal smile on her face was priceless.
It was mournfully, her cheerful last.
Veritably, a single contented scream, marked her decease.
Word Elixirist 