Closely, tentatively observing each step, Just to pray for a misstep in the next. Greener than envy, overflowing with jealousy, You just need seconds to falsely confirm your delusions.
You; the judge, the jury and the executioner, Countless souls quiver before you, horrified. Because the power you hold is so evil, That Lord Chaos himself bows before you.
Bodies pile up beside you, endlessly, With your treasure trove, swelling with their souls. Your guillotine of prejudice is placed so low, That death is imminent once you judge.
Short skirts, long beards, uncanny relations and much more, Nothing escapes your 'all-seeing-eyes'. From rumours of deceit to blatant truths, You make it your job to isolate the 'truth' from the 'lie'.
You contort the reality quicker than milk curdles into curd. Falsehood easily wears the guise of truth before you. Seasons change, eras fade, empires fall; the world moves on, Yet you stand, resolute in destroying lives and dreams alike.
Phlegmatic, despite the crushing weight, It resided beneath everything without complain. All day it sits alone in the stagnant air, With none giving it a second glance. But at night when the evening heat sets in, The blades of the fan hurry in an attempt to cool existence.
And when all is silent and the moon is sleeping, The tablecloth wails in agony. For the burden it carries left its self dilapidated, And no one bothered to ask it where it hurts. The cycle goes on; it silently hurts in the daylight, And it's screams of pain unheard even by the saints.
There exists certain strange creatures in your life, That acts foolishly like the table cloth. Smiling away to give you a breather in this world, Pushing aside their heartbreak for the lonely night. So often we forget their presence in our lives, Yet they cry in the dark to brighten our tomorrow.
This was a bit of an out of the box thinking and a lot of you people might not agree. Have an amazing day
Feeling alone again, aren't we? Running all alone in the shadows, Chasing after fleeting apparitions called friends. Come inside, Let it go, Talk to me.
Another hard day at life, huh? Tripping over the same old stones, Sinking deep trying to escape the harsh reality. Clear your head, Let it be, Talk to me.
The familiar pains are poking out again, aren't they? All the muffled screams you hold inside, Just waiting to break down on a shoulder. Take a breath, Let it slide, Come talk to me.
Another heart break so soon? I can see your soul leaking through your cracks, Your humanity trying to reach out into the light. I can see all this as we are the same, And you'll never be alone as long as I'm here, So let it out and talk to me
Once, on a Spring evening, I sang a song, The cherry blossoms were in full bloom, And it was all about them. The crowd loved it and danced to it, And my parents lifted me up in pride. My friends huddled around me and I was happy.
Once, on a Summer evening, I sang a song. The trees wilted in the burning sun, And it was all about them. The crowd seemed interested but didn't applaud, And my parents seemed to be having a fight. My friends were less in number and I was silent.
Once, on an Autumn evening, I sang a song. The leaves were dying and withering away, And it was all about them. The crowd wasn't interested and shoved me away, And only my mom was by my side then. My friends had abandoned me and I was sad.
Once, on a Winter evening, I sang a song. The trees were frozen, alone and depressed, And it was all about them. No one listened because it was morbid, And I was all by myself in the cold. With a blade in hand I walked the streets, Certain that I wouldn't sing again.
It doesn't matter how different you are from the rest, you are born to define greatness. You might feel like an outcast but like the arrow, fight against the dark night and rise to greatness in you flames of victory.
Imagine being on a long drive, a long thrilling tiring drive to that club in your childhood where you always imagined you would once go with your friends, have your first shot, get drunk, get high, that club, you see now?
But you had to move away. Grow up in another state, miles away.
But that club, you still thought of it, every once in a while.
That club and the life you left behind, that smile, that smile that made your heart race, that smile you left behind.
You yearn for a different present.
So, now six years later, you decide to visit the old place, the old place you imagine will fill this insatiable longing in your heart. Give you peace. Give you roots.
You break away from the hand holding you, in the present, just to look at that smile from your past.
The roads are dusty. You play the early 2000s songs. They remind you of home.
Old home. Safe home. Home.
You keep driving, keep driving. Until your tires inflated.
It's an hour before you see another soul on that road. Old abandoned road.
It's another three hours before you actually can drive again.
But not a crease of irritation appears on your forehead.
You're going home, after all.
It's night by the time you reach the town. You're dead tired. Dead tired.
But you've never been more quick in getting off car and looking around.
Not so shiny now, is the past?
Now that the dust is getting cleared off, don't like then view much, do you?
You feel your heart sink.
But okay, what if the town's gotten only rusty and old and lost it's lustre?
A voice then reminds you, it's always been the same.
You muffle that unwanted whisper and walk on, searching for familiar faces, buildings anything. Not much success.
Your heart sinks a bit more.
You finally open the door to the club you never had the chance to visit.
You're all excited and happy and anticipating.
And voila. You don't know where you're.
That smile that brought you over miles, that damned smile.
What are the chances?
You walk towards her, quite zigzaggedly. For you're light as a feather.
That one smile suddenly makes everything, everything, every fucking thing worth it.
You look at her.
She looks so different, yet so similar.
The grounded bird, she was. Roots. She was.
You start talking. She remembers you. She's delighted to see you. Your heart does a flip. She keeps talking, like she used to. Voice magical, putting you into a trance. You discuss everything, present, everything.
"Weren't you in Jane's class? She really liked you"
Wait, what? WHAT?
"What do you mean, Jane's class?"
"Well I've seen you around with her, and heard from friends too. I lived at the scholarship program all those years, but I did see you around. Wish we stayed around and confused everyone being troublesome sisters we were. Wish I were there. Maybe she would've been alive."
Her eyes twinkle in the dimly lit room.
And your heart's been rammed into the floor, shattering into millions of pieces.
You learn that your smile, that damned smile, committed suicide three years ago.
More than that, you cringe, blaming yourself for being selfish, you care about is the fact that, you didn't even remember her well enough.
As you stare at Sarah, you now see the earlier invisible differences.
You see what you want to, after all.
You walk back to your car. It's 2 am. Definitely not the best time to drive. Given that you're dead tired too.
But home feels like prison now.
You yearn for a different present.
Doesn't necessarily mean you want a different present.
You can't breathe, and so you drive on, drive on and on, you looking for something to hold on to. Roots, you drive on, looking for roots.