When spirits are killed…
You taught me to hate myself.
You made me worst than a beggar – who is earnestly seeking your benevolence in every matter.
You have distanced me from my every relation and made this world an isolation for me.
You have stolen my most coveted possession and made me a living dead.
You have given me grave thoughts and unasnwered questions.
Yes you are a criminal as you killed my spirits.
When a sinner is waiting to be damned…
Sitting in the far end of a dark room, face buried beneath the burden of the sins. The only illuminance that the sinner has allowed is the thin beam of moon falling on his face, making his tears sparkle in the dark and quiet room. Now when he had done to his fullest all the questionable deeds, he still is seeking the soft place from his Master, whom he had long time before annoyed.
When love is not requited…
At last the sight of him soothes her sore eyes. she wants to scream her heart out. She wants to tell him that she has conceded her defeat and has succumbed herself to the voice of her heart. She wants to see his eyes blink with gaiety upon hearing that she was thinking about him last night. She was restless. She was oblivious that she is standing among the crowd full of people.
Every passing moment mounted her anxiety. He seems oblivious of her appearence- rather purposefully. She knows that mere a galance of him on her will seal all the seams of the previous days. But her heart rang alarms when he drifted forward just ignoring her completely. The vibe game that always worked failed her today.
These are simply the moments that happen everyday to anyone at anytime. But we move on considering that this fuss is too innocous to consider, too crappy to behold and an overly ubiquitious phenomena thus profoundly ignored.
And the days that shall seal all the seams of the obscure times-actually never come.
It was a horrible day.
Someone told me something that engraved a filthy mark on my soul. Question marks were floating inside my mind. But a fearful instinct was holding me back. Only one sound keep resonating “you can’t handle the truth”.
And body tired.
But arousal of morbid curiosity was hard to overcome. I was fearing I may give in and took plunge onto the heap of bitter truth, residing in someone else jurisdiction. Despite all the preventive instincts I gave in.
And some part of me won and some lost that day.
I won because my apprehensions were true. Indeed I was living in delusion. Truth was falling on my feeble soul like debris fall from a collapsed building. How can anyone can keep you like a substitute. How can someone can treat you like a guinea-pig. But it had happened now.
After plethora of awe-struck movements I recalled I have failed the test called life. Then I entered into the cave of my thoughts. The most desirable place for someone who had lost everything. It was a damage beyond repair-I know somehow.
Just around midnight I, with my scattered piece of soul, headed towards a place once called home. The traffic was scarce on the road. Wind was rushing hard, blowing my hair and flurrying my dress. As if wind was trying to take me back to the consciousness. But it failed like I failed that horrible day. A car struck me and shattered my lump of mass into pieces, whose soul was already absconded.
I died wholly.
Now being in a state of limbo I conclude,that I wasn’t life that I had lost that night, what I lost was all the possibilities, the chances, and the opportunities that might struck me later and that might better my life.