journey through

Victims Run not from me, ye that fear what I say. Do not try to escape, ye that have foreseen my end. Try not to run away, for you too shall not escape the sharp edge of the sword. It shall claim me, and it shall claim you all. Look up and see. It is getting dark, yet it is just morning, and when I look up in the sky, I see pandemonium. The blue is no longer innocent. It is full of brown, the colour of death, the colour of dust and subverted authority. The clouds float by like sheep without a shepherd, nay; a shepherd without sheep. I can see you all, victims of death, victims of life. You all are on passage, and your mistakes pile on top of each other. You are not forgiven, and you shall never be forgiven. You shall pay, for there are consequences. I am not alone on the path to ruin, and though my heart is weak and my flesh is crumbling, it is what it is, for I am prepared for the end, goaded into a corner by the knives you thrust into me. I can see a crowd, trooping straight behind...

OF THEE I AM JEALOUS Of thee I am jealous, of the way you lay repose, next to that burning flame, on top of that wooden catafalque. Of thee I am jealous, the way your arms are crossed over thy chest, the way your eyes lay closed and the way you lie unbreathing. Of thee I am jealous, of your crisp suit, of your faded skin and of your deathly lips. Of thee I am jealous, of the song of silence on your lips, of the stationary winds in your hair, of your airless breath and of your unseeing sight, of time that you cannot count, even as it flits by. Oh my heart is burning, not with grief but with envy. Where are you headed, and why do you leave me here? In your death you have peace, and you have left me to the world, left me with the chaos and left me with the grief. Oh you have escaped the sharp talons of life. You have escaped the sad laughter and the exaggerated glee. You have run away from overrated happiness and you have saved yourself from all this vanity. I am jealous that you leave w...

Blandness Many times you have let it be, that anger has blinded your eyes and ire has taken over your life. You have embraced sorrow for so long, and you have stayed too long in your bed of grief, that you remember no more what it feels to be happy. You have ceased to live, and life has long left you. You were a bee, but you have long convinced yourself that you are a fly. Oh son, you have allowed death to rule your soul. You have allowed darkness to carry a sceptre, and declare itself king in the kingdom of your being. You have been chained to a post, by an imaginary rope, and you have been held back by your own fear, like a dog without a chain, but still lies around the chaining post. You have closed the doors and the windows and allowed the smoke to sail into your heart. You have broken all the mirrors because when you look at them you see not the scar on your face but that in your heart, but oh, they do not lie. Count not the graveyards lest they sprout outside in your yard. Do no...

Graveyard My heart is a graveyard, and oh your voice is the dirge. Bring your flowers everyone, and decorate this old stone. Come with thy solemn songs and torture me again. My flesh was too tender and could not take the scratches. My soul was too weak to handle being alone, but lies, isn’t that what love is made of? I cannot escape this trap. I cannot run away from this pain, for she has me, like death has man. They are my masters now, the realms of sorrow and the kingdoms of gloom. You convinced me that you meant no harm and peace we brokered, but with a dagger in your hand. I watched in disbelief, as my tormenter picked a whip and spread me on my stomach. I winced as the whiskers burnt my flesh. I flinched through every stroke but I did not say. I cherished this pain, for love is never really a bed of roses, but that shroud of thorns. Oh you asked me to read your eulogy when you died, but you were writing mine all the while. Hold my head as I address the executioner. Hold me steady...

Fighting for love A broken heart can never fail to find its way home, not in darkness and not in light. A blind heart still sees, and a deaf one still hears. Love, it takes no count of wrong, and even when hate roars, the whisper of love still rises above the noise. When the valley is flooded with the stench of death, the soft waft of love can still be felt. Its song is poetry, even above the sound of drums of war. It is a table of fools, and of idiots smitten, blind and stupid, lost and without cause, but it is venom that all of us crave, a trap that all of us fall into. Love is a door to the unknown. And so I shall knock at thy door, and I hope that you shall open. I shall kneel at thy mat, and I hope that you shall hear my humble supplication. It is a call for war. It is a roar of idiocy, of foolish and vain bravery. Take the hammer and the nail, and crucify me to the floor. Take the whip and flog me. Chastise me with scorpions, and double my yoke, but fear I shall know not. Be fo...

Judas I have seen thy lips and they are folding into a kiss. The rooster has crowed thrice. It is thy night, come and perform thy deed, come and betray the son of a woman. Come and sell him out. Come up and pick what is yours, the thirty pieces of silver. Ready your kiss, Judas, and hand over the son of man. Ready thy tongue with words, to bind the son of man to a tree. Light a fire with thy tongue, so the son of man can be scorched, burnt and forgotten. I want to see his mother cry, and I wasn’t to see his father weep. I want to see sorrow, on the face of his brothers, she that loved him, and they that sang after him. I want to see the faces of men turned away, as they share in the pain of he that you accused. I can see you pointing fingers, and I can hear your sleazy whispers, but where art thou?  Where is thy face, Judas? Why hidest thou in the dark? Why do you snuff out thine light? Why do you remove your shoes? This place is not holy. It reeks of sin. It smells of what you ha...

I have warned you Lament not when the time comes. Cry not out, for I have warned you before, and I have told you that this is going to hurt. You are falling hard upon a rock just like a nail falls to a hammer, or a moth to a glowing flame. You have dragged yourself to a land dry and barren. You have allowed yourself to stand on quick sand. The sun shines not on this side, and for centuries not a drop of rain has found its way here. It is a land of darkness and gloom, an infested marshland, a zone of war. You are walking to the land of the dead. Run while you still can, while you still have life in you. Save yourself and save your soul. Love, I am only a zombie, and in my soul I have ghosts of the past that was and never. I am not made for love. I am not made for you. Look at yourself, a creature of silk, and look at me, I am made of mud and sticks. You are made of gold and silver, but I’m fashioned from rags and stones. You know not how much I crave to hold you, but oh, you are too br...