On Lazy Vacations

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Think small, breathe deep

Wait for joy to rescue me?

 

Sit in silence across a table

Nodding off over crappy fables

 

Listening to the moans of an empty heart

Intensity to a man is just a small sum of parts

 

My soul will select her societies

My faith will live, perched on golden deities

 

Insignificance is dreary

When the mirror tells of it so clearly

 

I have barely been a day

Under the sun’s glare by the bay

 

And yet thoughts of life and death come easy

Like warm and cold in an empty sea breeze

 

Here in a room full of strangers

I find my voice the loudest and in danger

 

This thought

It had to be put down

That smile

It had to be spent

For a heart

Whose love knows no bounds

Hurts when

It is strummed into silence.

Because…

Because it always ends
Before it even begins
Because I lose my thought
Each time time twists and spins

Because truths often
Hurt more than the lies
Because running away
Helps the soul’s infinite sky

Because the best world
Is always a fantasy
Because one step out of the bell jar
Brings you back to reality

Because every life unloved
Is a life that is dead
Because in every love what’s told
Is never enough said

Because every soul has an audience
And every audience a voice
Because even music sometimes
Is just a lot of noise

Because that which doesn’t kill
Gives you pleasure too
Because everyday I breath this dead air
I love you too….

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Sepulcher

Standing atop the hill
Where she fell
Where her beauty and her soul
In the sunlight do dwell

It is here that I walk
Alone until its dark
Then I lose myself
And my mind falls apart

Did they take her
Up this clumsy way
In a lonesome hearse
On a cold winter day

Or did they let her headless
Lump rot, in the sun
And then build a sepulcher
And call her “the one”

I wonder what that angel thought
The one whose smile is etched in stone
Deep down she might have cried
For the girl who died alone

These walls grim at my touch
Behind the dirt and grime
Tell a tale of a beauty
That stood the test of time

She was a thought
A story to the empty hearts
A few worthy words
Painted into someone’s art

One day she fell in love
With the mirrored reflection
Of her own beauty
And its flawed perfection

When I now look upon
The same silver screen
It simply shines the mighty road
And sees right through me

That life that went away
Silently in a guillotine
It still lurks around here
Floating on the night breeze

Today she lies
A pile of broken bones
Among friends and foes
Buried under the same stone

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***

I walk down the path
Passing by each goodbye
Walking among the hearts I broke
and those who made me cry

I walk the empty roads
Till dusk beckons me home
I look around at the last of light
Back into my sepulcher I go….

In Victus

Out of the days that unearth me,
Bright and white from pole to pole,
I curse whatever gods may be
For my gullible soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have winced, I have cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody and bowed.
Beyond this place of skies so clear
Looms but the Horror of the jade,
And yet the so-called joy of the years
Finds and shall forever find me afraid.
It matters not how the gate is built,
How empty is my punishment scroll,
I am a slave to my guilt:
I am lost to my soul.

P.S: The true rendition of the William Ernest Henley Poem “Invictus”

Knock on the Door

It pounds as it comes to life
my doors of hatred and spite
I look lost at the world ahead
at the easy happy roads I’ll tread
The pain I left behind
has melted in my mind
it seeps in through the cracks
through the unsavory joyous tracks
I look back sometimes hoping
that the door waiting to be opened
goes away in a blinding mist
makes its way to my bucket list
The pounding is now getting louder
like silent unending torture
I endure for now hoping I’d last
this failing torture of the past
At length I’d have to choose
to walk ahead with nothing to lose
or open the door as I look back
and let my soul fade to black….