Jarvis

Creation awaits for another nocturnal onset of radiant impurity. Deformed mind seeks safety inside premonitions born out of casted feelings like the leftovers of prisoners in a war camp. Indeed a vision blurred beyond ambiguous annihilation , this imagination has placed a bet with its own damnation. Only one question resides in my mind today - Are we descending towards infinity or is it just me safely seeing the world through the eyes of the tornado.

An extract from the Black Book - Ragpicker , Oct 21 , 1773.

Inordinate

An alienation from the known , I stare into this cold silence without much hope , without a say and without a smile. A straight face towards an endless regime of pain and suffering bottled inside , like a volcano trying to erupt itself for more than a thousand years. A clueless life leading towards an abyss of oblivion without even bothering to ask what do this soul needs. Prolonged prevalence of induced emptiness of the heart and a thoughtless life has lead to such consequences.

For long I have tried to remember at least one single moment in my life , when I was truly happy. Stressed my memory back till the kindergarten. I found none. Never felt a soul close to me , never got touched by the blessings of a divine , never felt happy , nor remorse , nor sad neither appreciated the small good things around me... just a static line that flowed through the black heart. Indeed , as the night grows darker I stare into this bloody hell only to be reminded there is no hope.

An extract from the Black Book - Ragpicker , 29th March , 2011.