Meet my neighbour- Aspiring,
he claims that he’s an upcoming star.
Sometimes he shreds the metal strings,
sometimes he likes to play the base guitar.
I hear his pals beat the drums at night,
by 3 am he’s done with the drunken show.
We took the siege to the doors of death metal,
when last night’s grogginess turned into furious brow.
Our bangs and screeching never woke him up,
the man-child’s used to the usual symphony.
Only if the use of animal tranquillizers was legal,
his window would be an ideal target practice exigency.
Bystanders the Blind,
declare themselves mighty kind,
Armed with mirrors to capture the carnage,
then emerge as if from the Battles of Carthage.
Decaying rose leaves
curl unnoticed once again
pierced by the raw barbs
The dry ruby crown withers,
as thorns claim the black sceptre
Draped in her shadows
Sly fears; they hide in broad light
Stalking the aged shades
To slow the whorl of time
I give you all that is mine
I tear it apart and burn the shreds
To try and get rid of all my dreads
So lie with me upon the dirt
Till it’s just us below this earth
Pray trust me when I say that it’s true
My heart still dances to your soulless tunes.
Riding on the wrought plains of woe,
a marginalized road paved with blackened snow,
steeped in boiling sweat of those undone,
road rollers broke upon the hollow tracks overrun.
Rising above the dust of worn out souls,
laid to rest under the smoking cigarette rolls.
Turned to stop the blistering march of the funeral band,
found myself done in on their command.
Oh, it’s a pleasant surprise!
You seem to walk around in a stupor.
You talk to walls with no ears.
I’m pleased that you made it for supper!
So it’s your birthday again.
You chase them hoping that they’ll chase you.
You think you know, yet you don’t
Made deals with your demons to undo.
If life is steeped in madness’ past,
tell me, love, exactly how
bleeding long do you expect to last?
Afterall… It’s your party.
Their burnt Magnum Opus.
In search for the one which gave them hope-
the glories, the riches, and the life worth it all.
Scientists and philosophers alike,
they travelled far and wide.
Till the end.
Till their ends.
The owner of the one
worn of temptations searched another.
A fantastical cure for life’s dull weariness.
To heal the scars of time and restore.
A sliver to transmute
hearts of stone.
Their hearts of stone.
I tripped on a piece
it once belonged to that which
was lost and now lies shattered.
I cut myself to
bring back hope even though I know
it can never be the same.