Old Sparky...

You can't exert your will in no man's land,
When your only pursuit is survival,
Deranged poetic notes is a fight no one could withstand,
Death is no more an unholy rival.
When the fetish chamber contradicted the gruesome dungeon,
After all these generations you failed to pass an non stereotyped judgement...

Draped in a garish choice of words,
Lust fornicated the wrong town,
Your follies still mock your emptiness after all these years,
The walls of all bricks of good terms have been broken down.
Your threshold of pain has worn out by dusk,
A great deal of misfortune did not strike you only because you thought it must...

We're vexed with treachery,
Sick of damage,
Waiting for alchemy,
Formulated by the daily greats.
Bankruptcy has has fought the halo of no holy man,
Somewhere within the world of pain was an inkling of your own plan...

There has been no truce of that blatant kind of chaos,
A self thought angel to end their sufferings,
Wallowing has been know to mock the morrows ethos,
The exaggerated mystic pain that glamorises the starlings.
So though I feel demented it's actually because I'm dull,
For this is the very passage when the frolic does not swirl...

Let the impulses of love fill my heart,
Hormones of rational judgement be one with my bloodstream,
Let a normal state of mind vanquish any kind of shock,
A skit of black magic leave my dreams.
May the enzymes of good fortune rain upon us from paradise,
Punish them whose life was designed for a sacrilege union they wanted to jeopardise...

A Sinner in organised times...

A walk through this unfathomed dungeon,
Has unleashed this vixen.
For sadism can strike the pristine,
This speaks of purity stained...

A bloody sly prudish bugger,
Too dishonourable to be crucified.
For a good afterlife has tremendous grace,
Vengeance is too often sought by blood...

When your very creed is ashamed,
So very vain.
Natures wrath does backfire,
The honour is gone to the dogs,
They feast on it everyday.

So, who's to hex a sinner?
Life fails to understand relativity,
Brings about disorientation to the innocent,
In this very disgraced phase of transition...

The lies are damned,
The swing of life is not.
A very beautiful species,
Their harness is defied by lies...

The vixen dreams of the siren,
The knight knows his target,
The sinners brace themselves for their mid life crises and lonely death,
The King of fate mocks them all...

The exhibitionists are coerce,
The casket contains treasure that is never good to be flaunted.
Disharmony has its way of failing to see the great good,
A very strange kind of nugatory angst is at war with sunshine...

The dark ages were indeed oppressed,
Bred in agony.
Thus the impishness of a fool wounded a beautiful phase,
But the new era nourishes the madness...

A very undignified whorish soul,
Can dissociate the innocence of a vulnerable offspring,
Drifts from each tavern ,
By bad destiny brings about procreation,
This schmuck wanders by the proximity of your very shadow...

The air is bewildered,
Breathed by virtues and vices,
But you can never quite separate something so interdependent,
After all is said,
Life shall conclude that a curse is a cycle...

Words can never embody wrath,
Unless a certain evolution is attained,
That being said, my blood boils to a crimson like red,
Dishonour has left a real man shamed...

The closet of mystery was always a tale untold,
Stability is only loyal to the brave,
Helplessness is unfortunately a companion to every mortal,
Dignity is false until claimed...


( Painting- Saturn by Goya).

A spell without a glisten...

This solitary confinement of the soul,
Has conceived a very empty casket,
Has morphed into the epitome of beauty,
With a very individualistic definition...

The many oxymoron statements she's made,
Stirred up infinite amounts of laughter,
Bound by mockery,
Bears a certain amount of logic in the quiet...

A very indifferent state of mind,
A crashing state of Zen,
Leaving behind the baggage,
For light heart aids the transcend...

The etiquette seems to have revamped itself,
Because the origin of the species,
Creates a foundation,
Unaware about the present of the squad...

The offspring that we must protect,
Ponder on what lies in between life and death,
For every one's a mutant in their own terms,
Now the muddled assumptions shall be forgotten..

A very demented sort of placidity,
Has ceased the flow,
Our wishful thinking informs us that the colours shall be unleashed,
For all the world feels like a bound pariah...

Mystery man..

We are way past,
Living the future our minds unscripted,
The books by thieves,
Thrives in the sky,
Withered, for the frolic never prevailed.
To honor the disgust.

A very existential fire,
Now fails to wake,
The placid memoirs,
Of a delusional mind,
Dissolved in the transit,
Braced by incapable strength...

Oh lonely mortal,
As we fall we part,
Our unison is not certain,
So lets leave it to the thrill of universal alchemy,
Charmed by some amount of persona which is only a deception,
The obnoxious signals now begin to emerge.

Have, I lived a lie,
Or have I now learnt to accept the truth,
Expectations of monogamy,
In this very dungeon where the inmates aren't compatible,
Lampooned for this whimsical ways...

All of us populate,
The transit of Mother Earth's orifices,
Borne within are malicious bigots,
Creating an inhuman potion,
So nasty, so very nasty,
Yet not had enough of it...

This invincible will,
A possibility of momentary unraveled skill,
Impregnated with sloth,
Forsaken by impulses,
A very late arrival of the warrior called instinct....

We always foresee self discovery,
Then we welcome ourselves even further into the labyrinth,
The nonchalant ascend,
Has never settled...

( Painting by Rabindranath Tagore ).