Tuesday, July 9, 2013


Sometimes my reflection appears vague,
Falling upon scabs of those endless remains
It picks up rags of those withered unattended
And gaze upon the past, that once made sense
Surrendered to the everyday that comes
Without a thought and without a reason
Like the nail that pierces inches deep
A soul, burned by the heat of a million suns
I touch the cold and ugly stalemate
An emptied mind with nothing much to lose
A body that decayed under a misplaced fate
A heart that died long before it could choose

Sometimes my reflection appears vague,
Cries through a haunted nemesis inside
What does it behold in the eye of the beholder
Or is it just me, the fallen canvas on the other side
Betrayed by the every night that comes
A distant glimpse where my darkness thrive
I am a vampire that sleeps through the thirst
With no remorse I can drink you alive
Ageless and Emptiness are my hands of clock
In this timeless realm, my curse resides
And a lifeless life that I slowly perish
Your blood is what keeps me alive


Sometimes my eyes open up in the middle of an dark abstract. Its still and motionless within the mind. After all there is nothing much to feel good. And how can it be ? A lifetime of failures keeps resonating all day long and every time I blend with the crowd, I'm just a lost face in the millions. Who cares ? No one.

Most of the time, my self-esteem remains in an all time low. There is a natural tendency to sit in the last corners of any room, restaurant,metro trains or any public places.  I feel a comfort in being anonymous and not seen. I hate any light that falls on my face. I prefer to stay in the dark. Since when ? 8.

I open up to no one. I have no one with whom I can share anything thats there in my mind or feel in my heart. Thats how it has been since the last decade ever since I moved out of school. Its an abyss that I crave to swim everyday with a false impression I put up with the reality around me. Why so ? Doesn't matter. 

So, all I have is this Backyard, where I can speak of whatever there is. I have no dreams , no hope and no life. And this acts a source of my dark creativity.  This pure sense of disconnect with the entire world is what keeps me alive.  A emptied and chalked out mind, with a heart that pumps blood only to serve its biological purpose has created a distinct realm of nothingness driven life. Am I nihilist ? May be.