First Look

The first time he saw her... mocha skin... smiling beautifully as she danced at the cafe...moving beautifully... like she had descended from the heavens... a red flower smiling gaily from behind her ear... There was fey magic in the air... he felt as if she was beckoning to him and him alone as she danced...

Snow Queen

Weariness... descends slowly like winter's first snow... her black hair swirling over her ivory face... hands raised... the katana ready to strike the lethal blow... The sword comes down... slicing her opponent in half... the blade is covered in gore...she lifts her hand and brushes her cheek... now her face looks blood in snow...Alas the snow queen had arrived... with her icy promise of death...

Awaken

Doubt gently brushes its wings against my mind as I see his sleeping face... The last time it had subdued me completely... He had not woken for so long... Now as his head lies on my lap... I know he will wake again in the morning...

Rumors

Shallow

More in my face 

Than is my taste

I grow so weary I'll surrender

To what they say

Let them lead the way

Till' I can no longer remember

My darling dreams

Prewritten scenes

Whatever felt my own

So to save face

I'll take my place

Where I may safely feel alone

Glad the waters are so shallow

When the river runs so cold

I'm quick to wait

Too slow to take

They call me gracious for my patience

And I feel proud

Under that shroud

And all the while it's all evasion

Some humor here 

To fend off fear

And I'm a little more lost, oh dear

So to save face

I'll hold my place

So I may safely feel alone...

©Poets Of The Fall

Rumours... All of us face them... Sometimes they malign us... Or someone we know...  Strangely sometimes they even test us... Of our resilience... Our sense of principles... Sometimes... They unmask our real selves to our own selves... sometimes a strange rumour crops up... One where our enemy's the one in pain... The way we react to it shows us much about ourselves... even though it might be false in the end... Its almost like judgement day... But here we're only judged by our heart of hearts... which knows us since our conception... If we shatter our principles like glass... we can never recover their original form but if we pass... we realize there might not be the purity of truth in it... but at least if it were true we 've passed... Our higher consciousness accepts us and we realise we're still in the whiteness of purity and light not the stygian darkness... That our night indeed turned into day and did not last in eternal darkness...     

Aberration

Aberration... Ever realised you live right in the middle of a frothing sea of aberration?.... The innocent punished for things they didn't commit... Fourteen years of blood tears flowed from two black eyes... The guilt borne by the one who delicately balances your world... Who keeps his life hanging by a thread only so you don't have to lose yourself in the pain... Fourteen years... For fourteen years... He held me... Took over the responsibilities of the ones who deserted me... abandoned me... Now the time has come for me to abandon him... Aberration... Is there ever an end to it... Do we ever have refuge from it?... I wonder...

Reaction

On your palm an endless wonder

Lines that speak the truth without a sound

In your eyes awaits the tireless hunger

Already looks for prey to run down

Where's the cooling wind

Where's the evergreen field

Where's my mother's open arms

Where's my father lionheart

S'like the sun's gone down

Sleeps in the hallowed ground now

With the autumn's browns leaves

With the one who never grieves

What does tomorrow want with me

What does it matter what I see

If we all walk behind the blind

Tell me where do we draw the line

Poets Of The Fall- Where do we draw the line?

What should you feel... What should you feel when that apparition... that apparition that rejoiced in your evident demise... should itself be lost in the darkness... the same darkness which they had craved for you to be lost in... Should we choose our facade... Smiling, rejoicing in their pain... or switch sides... take its side and share in its grief... wailing and weeping for the pain that it bears.... or should we just let it go... let it go... it meant nothing to me... no rejoice... no sorrow... neutrality... be the one who never grieves... the one who looks at pleasure in one eye and pain in the other... like Brutus?

Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth. But the world isn't perfect, and the law is incomplete. Equivalent Exchangedoesn't encompass everything that goes on here. But I still choose to believe in its principle: that all things do come at a price. That there's an ebb, and a flow, a cycle. That the pain we went through did have a reward and that anyone who's determined and perseveres will get something of value in return, even if it's not what they expected. I don't think of Equivalent Exchange as a law of the world anymore. I think of it as a promise between my brother and me - a promise that someday, we'll see each other again.

— Alphonse Elric

    

No Limit

Wings... Snow white wings beating wildly against the sky... The powdered azure... The blazing sun... Nothing could compare with the beauty of this frantic desire to get away...To just get away from the fervour... From bondage to freedom... A hawk was chasing after it... Both graceful fliers... Two sharp shapes across the sky... Burnt Umber... Snow white feathers stark against the sky... Beauty lies deep within the dove's being... an olive branch messenger of peace... The eagle's sombre feathers signals the death of freedom... the death of flight... Of desire... Identity... Both graceful... Both beautiful... Gliding... Flapping frantically... The chase... Bondage following freedom... Which do you choose?... Take that which you love... The bondage of rules or the flight of the sky... where there's no limit... no limit  at all...  

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...

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© Poets Of The Fall