The last laugh...

The martyrs have weaken their stance, 

Subconsciously intimidated by the days of only wounds ahead,

Only moments to go until the march to glory,

The provinces of gold had intoxicated  them to the point of the sleep of reclusion...

The breeds of higher order have now not a reason to opine,

They begin their day with the solace of futility,

Commence to a voice of bigotry,

Until a different kind of transition...

For letters written in blood,

Have been defeated by the words inscribed in bonds,

Seldom acquainted with the world of gossip,

Placidly waiting in the numerous post offices of decay...

The time had begun for the fancy air of romance,

I will gift you a kiss if you please,

Embodied with the spirit of youth and glamour,

Made to suit carnal whims and mundane woes...

I shall wait for the end of your crude fantasy,

Which shall be made to sleep upon my arrival,

Awakened when I am away,

Which shall continue to torment you as you twitch and turn in your grave,

But not for too long...

Let me feed you copper candy,

So very fierce and inedible,

Let me occupy your senses with the scent of my love,

Superficial enough to slip away...

No impact has been as great,

As great as my non- existent significant other,

Who took me back to the rustic air of childhood,

As I grew many steps away from naivety...

Very few roots of passion have traced back,

The rest have faded away with the night,

Trampled on with time,

Burdened by mortality,

Just to suit the flow to the last laugh...

Windows...

Impulses of beauty are yet to strike the diverse visions of loneliness,
Faint and shallow visions of insecurities,
Pubescent joys welcome the coming of age,
Ambiguity is a tease at its best....

Intergalactic qualms of our minds,
Were devoid of the pleasure of solitude,
Greatly unaware of the inner world,
Under the robe of insolent strive.

The lingering scent of masked gratitude,
Not so sensual when claimed,
Contrary to adulterous mediocrity,
The forbidden fruit has come even closer...
 
 The world is a pendulum,
The protagonist possesses clandestine admiration for the antagonist,
The objectification of purity condemns lust,
Greatly unaware of its virtues...  


She wasn't attractive but she was beautiful!
The grenade of contempt has now been scattered into the land of indifference,
Replenished hope hovers over the mould and mask,
Deformed words adhere to the satire of nasty chance...

Image- ( sirjohnlawesart.blogspot.com )

Raptures...

The morn of every night,
Mourns for the intercept of time.
These raptures of an unpredictable path,
They compose the archives of a joyous heart...

We are ultimately lead to the circle of love,
From the greetings above.
A splash of stars,
Lays somewhere between the horizon and hearth...

Where will you accept?
The graceful acceptance of a fragment of defeat for which they wept.
Auxiliary melancholy of time,
The ambidexterity of emotions leading us from a hollow to light...

Picture from the net- ( aviartnutkins.com )

The Divan of glee..

Cocoons of paradise were used to make this silk,
Embraced with glee and sold to cold merchants,
This is where melancholy was killed,
This is where glee rests...

Prosperous silk,
Prosperity killed by ecstasy,
Stabbed the evil,
Draped in prosperity....

This is where philosophers wrote of their divine insights,
This is where the thinkers thought of worlds far beyond,
This is where the greats possessed the right,
The right to cast a spell on the world with a revolutionary wand...

Silk that possessed the antiquity of a million years,
Divinity just needs time,
Heroic time that makes pain disappear,
Oh lord, I wish to be divine!

These days of this slumber was when my mind was idle,
This hazy slumber is where I choose to dwell,
A strong foundation that blends with a fresh idea to create a blissful riddle,
I want to be struck with a revolutionary spell...

The royals aren't the only ones when it concerns bliss,
I believe I am sprinkled with glee through my hazy slumber,
The cold and heartless can give an unknown kiss,
With passing days I have succumbed to blissful massacres...

You may call this kitsch today,
But the morrow can morph kitsch into art,
Lucidity gets me so afraid,
Unlike my hazy slumber on my holy Divan...


Picture from the net- (picsphotosimages.blogspot.com )

Games of time...

There was once a drum to beat,
There was once a flute to play,
There were times I didn't need to question my fertility,
Time plays surreal games...

Why would you cry for skin no more supple,
Or the vanished strength you cherished,
You could never be the same zealous rebel,
Those days have followed the mist...

Time seems to dry as leaves loose that ecstatic green,
The most cherished flower of youth has dissolved in stubborn time,
You are the bearer of the torch of this journey you've seen,
Times change before you flutter your eyes...

Time turns gray with each puff,
You were the free spirit now you're the rearer,
As time progresses you'll find yourself teemed with lust,
Fate and you are now closer...

Picture from the net-( fineartamerica.com )

Rust...

Old yellow bricks,
Ancient buildings,
Illusionistic tricks,
She cannot spread her wings...

Preserved in a box,
Ancient love letters,
Each step behind she walks,
The ancient Pyramids of Giza are so much better...

She caresses her locks,
Red as blood,
On the church door she knocks,
Did those pieces of paper really bear love?

Don't we all fight against the clock?
Tainted hearts,
As buildings rise they also fall,
With blood did she part?

We all want our blood to be warmer,
Can't time be preserved like a rose in a book?
Wouldn't we love to be stronger?
At the vivid world she looks...

Around the world,
Within the spiral galaxy,
What about her?
Will she be set free?

Stop traveling through time,
The present doesn't need to be preserved,
Not one more tear in her eye,
No more empty words...

Picture from the net- ( slrphotographyguide.com )

Under the atmosphere...

Sip your wine,
my wise men and women,
feel your love,
there's only this much time.

Comb your hair,
breathe deep,
there's only this much pure air,
a little under the atmosphere.

Embrace each other,
hold each other tight,
there's only this much time of consistent light.

Don't give each other roses,
even they have this much time to live,
kiss each other, give each other pure gifts,
gifts with out any sin.

Don't look in space,
look into each others eyes,
look at each others face.

There's only this much time,
only a little, under the blanket,
a shield from the bitter cold,
live to the fullest,
there's only this much time,
time won't wait,
there's only this much life a lifetime can hold.

Picture from the net- (fineartamerica.com/featured/copenhagen-origin..)