Fallen Wisps of the Night

The sun rose as it does everyday

No change; no dimming or shadowing clouds

Just shinning, as it shines, always

The night was too long though

So dark, wet, cold; frightening!

Yet too short, effortlessly restless!

Consuming...

The air is thick, as it was the night before

The night wisps

Twitching uneasily

Suffocating...

I am watching them

Sadistically

Entrapped in my glass jar

As big as the breath they are struggling to inhale

Their wings are failing

Are they dying?

The light of my head lamp is strong and fierce

Like this brutal sun centring this gigantic void

Do they feel the pain?

The terror of losing their lives?

Do they share this agonizing consciousness?

…Agonizing me?

I’m scratching at my skin

As they crumble to the ground

Bloody, sticky fingers

Breaking wings of dimming lights

My head lamp is blinding their sight

As does the sun of my dried-out soul

The heat is too much to bare

The air is thickening

The movements have gone still

All!

We fall

The lights go out

Their lights

Our light

My bright light

The sun yet shinning, the lamp yet on

The heat yet rising

But not their wings and not my corpse

Pain Killer

Pain killer

A pill after a pill

I throw my head back violently

Shoving the pills down my throat

I reach to my phone

Searching through the contacts for his name

I open the contact details, press the number, dial

A black screen, eternal seconds of death, I wait

Ring, Ring…

A busy tone of devastation

I sink in my bed, my tormentingly comfortable bed

I feel the pines piercing my sensitive skin

I seek the tablets again

The pain killer is wearing off

This numbness, the itch in the back of my spine

The irritation, the violent shake in my left arm!

Ring, Ring…

My phone is ringing, displaying a photo, his photo

A short ring, a dead ring

The screen dies, killing the vibrant colours on display

A deep breath

A sudden release of air from my painfully contracted lungs

A relief accompanied by a blow of anger

My wretched fury

A deep breath

My muscles loosen, he is ok

A wave of relaxation rushes over me

Ring, ring, I dial his number, and wait

“Hello love”

A deep breath of relief and appreciation

“I missed you”

The pain killer kicks in, no extra pills needed

“I tried reaching you today, call rejected…”

“Sorry love, a bit hectic, it has been”

“I thought something bad happened!”

“Sorry love, I have to go, talk later”

A busy tone…

The line died on me

The screen, black, howling at me in silence

Mirroring my dazzled, red, tired eyes

My heart gets tied to a vicious stone

That sinks it deep in a heavy ocean

It strives, it fights, it drowns, in vain

With the last strand of hope burning with the last bubble of air bursting

I madly seek the tablets again

The pain is devouring my veins

Eating through my bones

I need my temporary fix

I throw my head back again

Shoving it down, shoving it down

I close my eyes, I try to breathe

Waiting for the cycle to be repeated

Another pill, another call

Another breath, another fall

Anger, fury, relief unfolds

A distorted chain of events going on and on

My Planet’s Colours over the Moon

I’m over the moon

Watching the various colours of my planet as they change and intertwine

I’m over the moon

As my feet sink in deep pitches of ash and blood

Blood?! What blood?!

I’m over the moon…

Here comes the hail

Tiny snow needles puncturing my skin, where my nerve buds are active the most

I’m set on fire, by the electrifying sensation screeching down my chords

Eating at my bones

I scream so loudly, terrifyingly

My voice is devoured by the vast, black, empty, space

Here come the waves

Crashing at my spine

I forcibly kneel, tilting my head, fracturing my back

My immobility consumes me, and the pain

I’m over the moon

Watching the various colours of my planet as they change and melt together

My eyes are fighting for vision across my muddy tears

Mixing with my blood, sweat, ash, skin, and fear

My lungs try not to collapse, inhaling the molecules of destruction oppressing me

As I’m over the moon

Watching the colours of my planet as they lose their properties in each other

Dispersing into an unknown

Seas

Winds saturated with iodine

Sticky air, blowing wild

Ebb and Tide

Taking my breath away, filling me back in

I feel the humidity,

The stickiness, on my skin

Clinging, like those memories,

A howling sea

The stinging pain

Where my heart lies

Where my chest rises and falls

As my lungs inflate and deflate

The waves come at me

Streaming, steaming, stabbing, screaming

Pushing me under, raising me high above

As I strive to swim across, failing and succeeding

Those memories

I close my eyes, my dreams, to the endless sea

The motion still vivid, ebbs and tides

The tears behind my lids

"Men rise and fall like the winter wheat"

And as these seas are my witnesses

I have risen as I have fallen

Incinerated

Squeeze my heart, turning into stone

Leave your burning handprint on my chest

The glowing fire incinerating me from within

I’m combusting into flames

You said you will protect me

Love me and cherish me

You asked me to open up

To start loving again

I know I’m sinful

Always angry, always loud

Disgraceful at times

But you accepted me, faulty and foul

You said you will be there

You said you will stand by me

You said and you said

And at a point, I chose to believe

I said it once, I’m saying it again

You’re a man, you’ll love and you’ll love

And you’ll destroy whatever left.

It's the simple truths that men lie 

My bones are liquefying

My eyes are turning white

My breath is snatched violently from my lungs

I’m losing myself to the devouring pain

My eyes are now chocking on their burning tears

Red lava rivers

I’m suffocating, grabbing at my throat for air, 

Dry and cracking

I’m retreating to the road I initially chose

The path I said I ought to take

Riding alone with my arts and rhythms

Finding solace in the misty mountain’s rocks

Let the cold wash over me

Hailing me down with biting snow

Maybe it will be more gentle on me

Saving me from my burning soul

Satan’s Blood (Demons of The Night XII)

Soft, sleek, black, silky strands of hair

Falling down his forehead

Covering his neck line

Contemplating his clear, fair skin

Wide almond eyes, black as night

Long lashes, thick

Lining their outline in precision

Glistening under the pale lights

Small nose, 

Rosy lips

A face carved in perfection

Most beautiful

A curse swarming beneath his skin

Dark poison 

Black ink streaming in his veins

Drawing vicious hollowness 

“You’re born to breed, 

My line should proceed, 

My blood should be cleansed, 

A ritual you can’t evade”

The poison spread

Bad blood,

Calling for new blood, new life

A new flesh, an infestation

His heartbeats raced with mine

Empathy more than love

Love stronger than empathy

An inhuman attraction; bestiality 

Our eyes locked on each other

We’re seeing through one other

Our hearts slamming against their cages vigorously

As our bodies clasped so tight

THE RITUAL SHALL NOW BEGIN

I lost myself to his misery

He lost himself in my purity

More passionately than poisonously

More poisonously than cursed

More cursed than blindingly dark

Darker than any force that would tear us apart

It’s warmer than any of us has ever felt

All the coldness seeping out of our bones

The ice that has racked our souls

Slowly melting in disclosure

More passionately than poisonously

More tenderly than stiffly

More yearningly than lustfully

More intimately than forcibly

The storm we wreaked is now going dormant

We reached deep depths beyond getting lost

More lost than we can ever be saved

More saved that we can never be lost

A new child is born

The circle will be going on

We broke the lurking evil

Only to have it reforged

The guilt will be inscribed in our every breath 

As much as this moment can’t reced in memory

A bond is moulded, love is founded

Only to be diminished with a new enchantment

A new ritual will be called upon

New innocent life, gone

Blood for blood and life for life 

A Satan will always rise

Waking Up the Dead

It all came back to me, crushing me with exasperating nostalgia. If it was the right thing to do, it surely doesn’t feel like it. Apparently I wanted to do that; I wanted to do it for so long that now I can’t even remember why I wanted to do it. It hurts so much. He was once a friend; a great friend even with all the drama, the nagging, and all the things that I hated about him. He was also my fix, my own OD, and I was addicted to his substance abuse. It went so bad in the past, me being so nagging, he being so broken and overwhelmed, me falling in love with his friend and nearly getting engaged to him. It was flooding us all; we were drowning under our incomprehension of our own desires and needs. The consummation was eating at us, slowly, happily, and quietly that we didn’t even realize it until it was too late. It was too late that all of our bonds were broken, all of our bridges burned down. I was on one side of the mountain, while they were on the other side of the valley, so far apart that we couldn't even see one another, feel one another, or understand what we were going through. Such desperate separation acted like a poison burning through the veins of our relationship. It was dying and failing rapidly and horribly. The antidote was unknown at the time, and remains unknown to this day. Trying to clear waters, after more than a year of torturing silence, feels like digging out the dead corpse of our lost relationship and trying to do CPR, even though CPR attempts have failed before calling out the time of death. It doesn’t even stop here. In desperation, I don’t stop at the CPR failure, I try to force life into the cold dead by all means possible that I am now creating Frankenstein’s monster. Now I am doing as Frankenstein did, he was so excited towards the results of his experiments that he has forgotten what the consequences might be, creating an overwhelming creature that is so lost in emotional turmoil and fragments of past lives of two or more people who are long dead and gone. Same inputs and givens, being examined through the same scope and used in the same way, give the same result. If it went any further than what it has gone already, if any further attempts were made to try firing life through our death, I will be creating the monster that Frankenstein was so scared of and the fire of this alleged spark of life will back fire at us all. It will devour all of what we had left of good memories, whether fading or vivid with colors and scents. Some relationships are better left dead, with no resolution or reconciliation. Don’t bring out the dead if it has already been gone for so long that now its life will be more disrupting and destructive than the beauty it had during its lifetime.