Category Archives: Uncategorized

The knights of darkness

Sleep stands a few steps away from me
Watching my pathetic body cycle in weary
My mind aching in ceaseless frenzy

After long hours of a short day,
Counted two at most,
That slowly passed like two long dull centuries

I was reading, vampire chronicles,
Buried between the black ink and papers,
In the great imagery of fine wording

The beautiful scenery of dim evenings,
Masked by moonlights and lanterns
Along streets of the late eighteenth century

An artistic painting it seemed,
Old fashioned, tailored coats and hats,
Queued in long lines awaiting the curtains of the Opera

When theatre truly boiled blood in human veins,
The excitement, delight, clever poetry
Written softly on tender walls of their hearts

Listening carefully at the sounds,
Wagon wheels on tiny rocks of the dark streets,
Through alleys where stray cats made their little roars

There were gasps of terror,
swift advances like a wind,
Cold, that death smelt in the dump air

Then, screams of the fading,
Echoing on walls of moonless nights,
As their skins turned white within the reaper’s grip

Inescapable, truly before the face of death
Creatures of the night, lone predators
The knights of darkness

Beautiful, ain’t it?
Fascinating, the metallic smell of fresh blood,
Dripping from sharp canines, a fresh kill!

Ah, I felt the hunger, and truly did,
But was lost to this world,
Oblivious to my own problems, “food”

That now, dark, you understand,
Why I can’t leave this house to find “food”
And can’t drift smoothly into that pool of sleep “nightmares.”

Ah, nightmares! Hunger!

~sad ~

Nights of regret

The warm covers that wrap my frozen heart,
A dark night searching the frail bones of my soul,
As my eyes peer into its blinding folds,
Ushering my fears on trays of delicacies
My nightmares lying next to my unmoving body

I feel the cold touch of their skin,
Like scales of fresh fish,
Out a frozen lake of winter tears,
The moaning voices of savaged souls,
And screaming poignantly, their lonely mothers on coastal shores

So, I grip tightly,
My sweaty palms bleeding on white sheets,
The wrinkles of a tie and dye,
Painting my lonely and endless battles,
With these nights of regret

Pebbles on lonely shores

Words of love drift a thousand miles,
The sound of each letter fading with a wave
Silently on coastal sands,
Sweeping pebbles of our marriage

Once a solid rock,
Raised high and strong,
Holding out against all heights of tides,
As they smashed its thick and sharp edges,

Always cutting through all curtains of fabrications
Laid cunningly by serpentine souls
And the warm heat of the sun,
That burnt us through summer

But the earthquakes of betrayal,
Ships wrecked on massive rocks,
The tiny fragments at the sea bottom
And the beautiful pebbles on lonely shores

Us against them (rains of love)

The rains of love,
Fall down on dry skin,
Washing away,  the dust of loneliness

The heart smiles at the warm sunrise
Beating to a dove’s tune,
Dancing above the clouds

Buds of roses spring,
Crimson and snow white petals,
Drifting gently, with winds of affection

Carrying, blankets of care
For the long time after twilight,
When all is,  but a black sky,

And scary howls of malicious wishers
Grinding their pointed teeth,
Lurking, patiently, to tear apart

But because I hold you close to my heart,
The moist of your skin warmer than the night’s cold breeze,
My arms shall never weaken

Not a single nerve shall loosen our strong embrace
Be it the many earthquakes of vicious rumors,
Whispers through walls of our bedroom

I promise, on this day, man and wife, 
Declaring my love and loyalty,
Body and spirit, our souls as one,

That you,  my darling, I shall be,
Like a shadow, always besides you
And like the light, casting that shadow always, under your strong feet

Broken island

Cold and lone,
In company of squawking trees,
And resonating echoes of blood shed

Spilled on dark soils
And run to earth’s depth,
By the falling rains of desolation

Wiping, gently, my tearless eyes,
The fountains of sorrow
But now dry deserts of depression

Hanging onto the red moon,
Like it was then on the first night of this dreadfulness

It was the battle of the lords,
The war of angels and demons,

Pitched screams,
Reached beyond where eyes could reach

Sounds of clashing steel,
A million horseshoes rumbling below

Shiny armours of iron vests
Reflecting the flames of burning hats

And silhouettes of slain brothers,
Scythed to rise with the dark smoke

My fingers shivered,
Still holding the hilt of my blooded sword,

As I watched endlessly,
At the sestructive power of fury

For glory and honor,
Gold and power,

In the name of history,
Tearing apart walls of a long known generation

That above their soulless skulls
An iron throne shall sit

And names of fallen knights,
Engraved in the floor, in the hall of justice

So I ask now,  like I did then,
Where is justice in shedding of innocent blood?

Days engraved into the calendar

Some days are deeply engraved into the calendars of our lives. Like markings on wooden furniture,  I imagine carpentry of a fine artist,  “God of course” or whatever you think controls the wheel of time.

Anyway, carefully, He marks the edges of each date. The rounds of an eight or the lines that make a four. Crafting them so well, that parts of our souls are pinned onto these digits. Like shreds, but pieces of our hearts.

We all mostly say that those are just memories. But yet, sometimes it does feel more. Like each thought appears real.  Almost like reliving that day, event, or moment.

Sometimes you take pleasure in the sweetness of that memory. You feel like its a déjà vu.  The sounds, weather, or the feel of fog on your skin.

Quickly, your mind races to that date. Your hands run smoothly on the imaginary markings and edges of a smile slowly appear on your face. That date could be your wedding, day of your child’s birth or anything. And this I call beauty of the human mind.

But unfortunately, this same mind, slips back to a dark date. Sometimes,  an unfortunate loss, accident, rape, and more. We know them. And we dread them.

Some say that those things we love most reflect things we fear. Some convince themselves that they fear nothing. And yet, they actually love some things.  Others that they don’t love, and yet again fear some things.

Anyway, I myself have my dates. Some I smile, others I frown. And yet, most days, I really do frown a lot.

So you wonder why?

Well its simple. My older brother asked me once, “what did we do to God to take both of our parents?” I was young, and now am grown. And that QUESTION resonates loudly in my mind now that I can think freely.

I can make a list of all things I would have enjoyed doing with my parents. And I can’t write a list of things that i would do without them. But well, we only live once. And THAT bothers me most.  My brothers and I will NEVER have that EVER.

So I grew up hearing different reasons why everything happens. And I can tell you, none justifies being orphaned at an early age where grownups convince you about how your parents went to work and never returned. Or living in some beautiful place in the skies? And because you are young, you do actually believe them. Can you imagine the feeling when you come realise that you have missed quite a lot? Why in the skies and not here to teach me how to shave?

Anyway, this is why I frown and tend not to love so much but assume love for only a few things, setting my self targets to bury my loud thoughts, and likely pass onto another world if there is.

And yet I should say,  I do smile just like you. Because, despite growing up without parents, I do have one now. She took us in and gave us a home. And to that am really glad but won’t write about her today. May be another time.

So I say, this world a crazy place, blessing those that it has broken.

Who’s there to love?

Standing on this street,
Anonymous shadows fading out of sight
Indistinctive voices waving in and out

I become silent to the many heart beats,
But my own,  skipping between seconds,
A frozen time, a conscious self finally awoken

I look at a moving cloud,
An awareness of lightness,
To see that am floating through space

Below I see, a man in a black suit
My unmoving body within time,
Oblivious to the passing blurry faces

And so, he speaks to me, asking,
“Who’s there to love?”
“Who’s there to care?”

That suddenly, I fall fast,
Back into my flesh and bones,
Just before the lights hit green

Across I see, an elderly lady,
In the road, just before she is sent flying,
By an SUV, to the other world of silence

And then, distinctive whispers,
“Who’s there to love?”
“Who’s there to care?”