loose ends

And I see that

i'm reduced to be the one of only Silent Poems;

Who made me what I am?

Is it me? or You through me?

And I can't even blame You,

For I know that You did it, only so long

till You were aware of

what I'll b reduced to,

what I'm today.

The only victory I had, have

and will continue to have is

losing to this forsaken Love.

is it even worth to be thoughtless in thinking of you?

the possibilities exceed infinity.

i became an instrument of your rhythm

and you, the chalice of my forlorn harmony.

yet i sit on this merciless night

begging your eyes to take in

the sheen of my lonely lustre

begging your treacherous desires

to reckon my cancerous lust.

yet, i know the futileness of my attempts...

the moon wouldn't know

what hides in the heart of an ocean...

yet the harbinger touches me

and i elope with your chants

into the abyss of nihilism.....

THE PANTOMIME

in the hour of endless darkness,

he emerged from the haze.

with that ivory face of the moon

and his eyes ablaze...

paranoia made-up for his shoes,

in the schizophrenic cloak,

he made his ambivalent moves.

there was silence, loud...

loud and deafening.

he began to act.

he began demeaning.

scathed and battered,

the demons hovering.

the pantomime's scared!

but the fear would be redeeming.

he craved for his heart

and let it bleed in his hands.

the burial would be gory.

this much he could stand.

on his grave, he wailed...

he wailed like a lark.

tears stung my eyes

but the pantomime laughed!

from music to utter agony,

his act went on.

from churches to graveyards

and berated echelons.

he came to a standstill,

the time evaporated.

in the sure abyss of hypnotism,

i stood helplessly sedated.

his touch bore into me.

his gaze burnt my skin.

words overflowed from his eyes...

yes, the phantom would sin.

my cringe- instinctual.

his hold only tight.

'No!', he begged with his desires.

'No, you shouldn't fight'.

suspended in nothingness,

he sure walked like a gazelle.

crimson lips so undaunted,

weaving an impenetrable spell.

with the cold breath of a dead,

the words formed a mist

he only lowered into my ear

and the pantomime hissed...

in the only words he spoke, he told,

"your secrets aren't unknown".

in the breathless next moment,

he was perched on a tree.

the tangents returned to life

but the soul was no more free...

...from NO rehab...

the words shatter to meaninglessness.

the meanings cease to horizons.

its just your voice wafting idly

the symptoms of my chronic addiction.

shouldn't have let you conquer me completely

yet, could i have had said "No"?

it feels so good enough...

the grounds are tangents no more.

such sinister partners to your charms.

its just this harbinger of some feelings

pouring out your countenance to life.

shouldn't have let you talk to me so sweetly

its a grotesque divulgence.

yet it feels good enough...

and i completely lost myself

is it only fair to be at your mercy?

but i can't want it no other way.
you are the cancer that ate me up...

why does it still feels good enough?

she wants to fly

don't clip her wings;

she'd die...

let her soar the sky

don't hold her down;

she'd die...

your ways aren't worth.

your patience eludes her.

your morals of "right" and "wrong"-

they suffocate.

they derogate.

she wants to realize;

let her fly.

she wants to go away.

don't tie her;

she'd die...

of Venus and Mars

lady: the sinister urges of mine wait for,

in all their grotesque countenance,

the harbinger of thy touch.

man: the yearning burns as a flame

salvaging the bodice of all morals;

a procession readies for a defeat.

lady: the procession shall commence

whence forth the melody of contented cries

would eat the forbidden fruits.

man: garish fantasies dance in sensuality,

a graveyard of my sober etiquettes;

dilemmas steal the grim reckoning.

lady: the graveyard of thy sanity woulds't mock

the last shreds of chastity; graves would yawn

to turn thy coffin into oceans of tainted lust.

man: the limbs twitch for thy beauty

the nimble sighs woulds't prove gory

thou hath always had that power.

lady: consumed in desire, the viper of thy tongue

rapes the last of my luster and thee laugh?!

and thy forsaken deeds dare condemn my wants!

man: ironical, m'lady, how dost thou twirl!

thee entice, thee seduce, thou commands't my dreams

yet thee overlaps thy charms in furs!

lady: inside me, the void compels its prey to plunge

deeper, as the wanton eyes take-in the sheen

of thy sinful pleasure; let the curtains dissolve.

man: let the mist cloud thy rest!