Slinging scribbles

A Santa cap hangs forlornly on the stand, stranded in the carnival of dust, The jingles of the bells have long been a  passé , Longed then, lost now. A corpse lies amidst a neatly laid structure of woods, breathing ashes, living; leaving the ebullient flames, Prism that emitted a thousand behaviors has just passed, longed then, lost now. The apotheosis of life is lost in struggle, The journey of give and take has finally ended, Now its time to turn into a residue and respect the grave, Seems like a chimera, the search for the terminal! We want, we got, we yearned more, we lust, we struggled, we burnt.  Longed then, lost now.  

Walking down the lane for so long, At times I realize am at the crossroads Tears that know to roll down the cheeks, So does the babies that pour out of the wombs, The ink that kisses papers with ease, The only sun that knows to rise in the east                                                                                  How do they know, I do not know; For all I know, Their roads they know; Paths which lead to two or many ways, And those ways leads to one or many, Which road leads where, I do not know, In fact, there’s nothing I know For all I know, I need a light That doesn’t ...

I have locked myself in the room, surrounded myself with the shades of my shadow along with the flaming rays of sun that wash my feet, giving me enough reason to live tomorrow for it gives me hope of a new seeking, a different beginning, a better meaning for a weaker sibling! I am afraid to look out of the window, terrified at little noises my resemblances may make, either about me or their mundane happenings. little do i know about the fear that resides within me, the fear of defeat swallowing me, the fear of competition killing me and the smaller details happening with me.  I blow the candle away; close my eyes to accept the deep silence and the darkness, the only thing which appreciates my existence forever with a placid nature. My soul accepts it with grace as the hand keeps ticking and warning me about the lost time it makes but I realize deep within myself, either am wasted as each day shall pass or the other way which awaits mystery! My mind views mystery as hypothetical ...