Nemesis...

Nemesis... The name itself stirs up ancient memories... A goddess dressed in gold... Sword held aloft... The ivory face looked so delicate.... yet so strong.... a uniquely paradoxical face... The grace of a snowy white lynx flows inside every cell of her being... She tilts her graceful face as she pulls up the blade to my throat...

Illusions

Illusions... We despise them... We all hate them... Shadows we call them... Fickle visions of light... touch them and they're gone... like flowers made of dust... They may not be the truth and abhorred a lot... But they still have their importance... They make you realise the thin difference... They're the hazy ground between dreams and reality... A grey area... Between black and white... Stygian... Some need them... clutch them so very close to their heart ... Because reality is like a broken mirror... Cutting them everywhere for every moments of their life... Which people in the normal real world call 'madness'... Oh so very different names given by psychiatrists... but its all the same... I see nothing wrong in madness... Its mainly a desire to protect yourself from your painful reality  

gnawing at you with its gore covered fingers... Inside you... Illusions keep the alive at least in some way... At least in some way... they keep them happy and content... Do we have a right to deny them that?

Smoke and Mirrors

I danced a tango with my hubris high on youth

We swept across the dance floor to subjective truth

But there was no harmony there

No reason for coexistence

Nothing to span the distance, now

Do we even know who we are

Living like all life is forfeit

Like we can just go redefine it

Regardless what we broke

Who died and made us stars

With our intellectual gambits

Our millionaire flair and our antics

We're like mirrors seen through smoke

I tried a shanty with the fool to find my pace

Anything from puns to jests to intertwine our ways

But there was no loyalty to hope

And funny the need for mercy

How it makes us bleed all mercy, now

Do we even know who we are...

Now the melody's void of sympathy

cos that shit's in byte size bits on YouTube

so tell me what am I supposed to do

When the malady's no remedy

Till we reach the lowest absolute

And necessity will finally force something through what's walling you

Do we even know who we are...

**********

© Poets Of The Fall

Chasing Butterflies...

We live in a strange world don't we? Things that appear to be solid... inanimate objects are only left in the end... Reliance on flesh and blood seems to be an illusion... Like a kitten trying to catch a bird reflected in a stream... Just a face reflected in a stream... Without realising it, all our lives, we keep trying to catch that one little butterfly or bird without knowing whether it'll stay... Let's just admit it... All of us are like the summer wind... WE always come with the promise of staying... The smell of warm berries... of sun kissed wine... floral fragrance... but we leave as soon as autumn settles in with its golden hues...

The Window Sill...

Daylight fades on my sill...Starlight begins to shine slowly... silvery and bright...gentle to my skin... the memories of the harsh sunlight and harsh memories fade away by this silvery soft touch...healing begins at night... I hate the harsh sanguine of the day... It bares all... All the scars of my past... And doubts of the future... This twilight... This dusk is so magical, flooding the light into my bedroom... Only an amethyst butterfly and a tabby kitten for company... The butterfly gently settles on the kitty's nose to get a better view... Silence has fallen and the world is shrouded with the purple haze... As the comforting dark settles... Dark Stygian silhouettes start creeping up... Form becomes formless... Reality hazily turns to abstract as the soft perse makes the wings of the butterfly glow from within... some sort of alien amaranthine beauty... It opens its wings to harness the light as if trying to capture the beauty of dusk... the tabby's eyes grow wider in surprise... As the butterfly begins to glow... She starts circling me all over, glowing ethereally, making my pain fade... As it gently settles on my shoulder... My head is crowned by silvery starlight... Looks like star dust... I reach out my hand towards my beautiful crown... More beautiful than any silver filigree produced in the world... It flows into my hands... And through my hands into me... Soothing the harshness... the burning within me... Like it was cradling me from inside... Softly running all over inside me... When I raise up my hands for more... Sensing my want for more... The sky pours more of her sterling treasure into my outstretched hands... She's so generous... After a while she starts bathing me in starlight... The moon appears slowly... Cooling my heart... The butterfly is now circling the tabby... who follows her with her curious sea green eyes... Eyes flashing... This evening serenade happens every night... And every night a plum butterfly, a light tabby and a little girl wait for it by the window sill for daylight to turn into starlight...     
(Image by:http://deviantmary.deviantart.com/)
  

Ivory Hand...

steel clashed against steel...contention in the air... an ivory hand leading lethal blows...a black handled sword with a sheaf of engraved cherry blossoms... stained with blood of guilt....

Eternal Separation

The sky and the earth...Blue and brown...A most passionate marriage...
But cursed with eternal separation.... Never to embrace again...

Moments Of Nostalgia...

The waves rise and fall like the sensations in my mind.... one moment light feathers flutter through... the next canon balls cavort in my head like days of contention... People... time... memories seem to flood through... blood stained pages of a diary... a white shirt covered in blood... The world is strange... cuts you like a knife knowing when you'll bleed the most....

Reigning Queen Of Sorrow... First Look...

Pain… My life has been full of pain… endless pain. This is what I want to save him from… a life full of uncertainty, lies, betrayal, moreover a broken heart, pain and sorrow…
I am Niharo Konishi, Jason's mother. I was born on 21st March 1896 in a tiny little fishing village in Japan. I grew up around the sea. I loved the waves, the breeze especially the salty taste of the air. I can even remember it now after such a long time. It seems like a lifetime now. Sometimes I stop and wonder whether I really had a loving family and nice family. This I can only dream from afar and Jason is all that I have right now. I was so little… only a bud really when I was plucked away from my own family… away from the two people I loved more than anything else in the world.

Negaria

The sword slipped from her hand, slid down and crashed soundlessly to the ground. She raised her eyebrows in surprise… It had never happened before… Not once in her life.
The phoenix was covered in its own flames and when it was completely enveloped in them, she let out a scream… A frightened scream… She felt like she would never see her beautiful advisor again… the one who was always there for her… Her everything since her parents died entrusting her in the phoenix’s care…
She dropped on to her knees on the floor, burying her face in her hands as her tears streamed down her face like two rivulets.
She was known as the sad princess, the princess who never smiled. Kaminari was her name. She was a young slender girl of sixteen when she was brought to the palace… the summer palace of ‘Akemi’. Her parents were the emperor and empress of the island of birds, ‘Tori ’.
*****
It seemed as if a river of blood streaked the horizon, turning it like a streak of vermillion on a bride’s head but this was no wedding. This was war… coldblooded contention. Where, wives transformed into widows, sane into the insane, the overtly emotional turned apathetic in this boiling…inimical…vitriolic atmosphere. This environment was so opugnant that even mothers who are so protective of their progeny were emotionless when their quartered scions ended up at their doorstep…
War like this was never before seen in the history of time… Total annihilation of lives, minds, sanity and sometimes even souls… Blood flowed freely… It was even more common than water in Negaria.
Negaria. The beautiful city of Negaria… The peaceful city of Negaria is now wrought with inferno from hell… This holocaust of contention… of annihilation… of cold blooded war was brought about by a single mistake.
A single innocent mistake was enough to awaken the carnal blood lust that is present in all beings even though consciously they’ve suppressed it… Like a vegetarian shark... When it smells blood there is no stopping its ferine tendencies. Ironic isn’t it. For even the Buddhist monk, the catholic priest and the holy nuns were indulged in this opus… This opus of carnage, inferno and bloodshed.
Mistakes… all of us make them… innocent ones but sometimes even their consequences can even bring hell on earth… Unfortunately… There are no erasers… No erasers at all…
Instruction does not prevent waste of time or mistakes,
And mistakes themselves are the best teachers of all
Negaria became witness to this… At the cost of it’s everything.
The sanguine sun was rising in the far far east. The ground was bathed in red. The light would turn slowly from the dim red crimson to the more unrelenting amber hurting the oculus as the sun moves up in the sky…
Warriors were bathed in blood… their armor reeked in dry blood. Blood from their enemies… Their lives hanging uncertain by the thread of the war’s outcome… Negaria’s warriors were the finest in the land. Yet, this war tested more than their skills… It tested so much more… so much more…