Monday, March 9, 2009

a girl like a whirlwind blows over d mountains

when harrowing shadows shudder overpowering my existence...i sometimes relent... but d struggle with my own shadow continues to unravel d true essence...sometimes i donot surrender... golden vistas beacon...these glimpses are rare...rare are the epiphanic revelations...no hiding under d wings...pangs and angst are laid bare like an unhealed sore...open wound is the only recognisable insignia of a rotten carcass...my putrid flesh yearns for salvation...i glide...doors of escape r closed...replica in d mirror remonstrates..."face, face d truth"...unknown even to myself i wore a mask...d mask has seeped into the soul...engulfed my entity...now tearing d mask means to bleed without bar...profusely and copiously...to soak my soul in the redeeming red...but no gothic scar to repell...
thus often i throw sparse pebbles in my scttered past...to see d circle of water sizzle...d ripples widen as d core of it simmers and palpitates...my body laid on d pyre burns leaving d ashes of all smokey years...bygone days were a facade...to keep me away from myself...though d stranger me was also tantalizing...and there was also happiness in d way i was...embittered today cant leave a scratch on the transparent glassdoor of antiquity...d swivel door of memory remains swinging...words fluttereing...and all oscillations unsettled...
where can i get my restless spirit's stay...tears are dried long ago...eyes ensnared by d cobweb of flimsy fancy search for d lost horizon...languishing for an alluring rainbow...
nibbled moon retains the trace of memory...foamy white leaves a trail...

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