The mask of death is very shrill, monotonous and yet predictable. It is a non sequitur verity of our lives, assaying the myths of life and afterlife. It is widely interpreted in terms of hell and heaven and salvation, and it is just a form of veering the subject to abjectness, propounding the theories of the undead and melancholy. Soul is rendered to the variforms of elements, and is another term of universe. Life, in itself, is a universe, vast and abysmal: unaccounted for all the elementary factors. But, lets just live it..as it is. C'est la vie!
i
June walks briskly, Her head held high, Her hair swaying low, The breeze comes through, I am not walking, I am not sleeping, June walks slowly, Her head in a bow, Her hair disheveled, The storm washes through, I am not walking, I am not sleeping.
ii
Remnants of high hopes, Roses of low tides, Comes and goes, You are alone, Die in the glaze.
iii
Garfield and Odie, Two friends, Two foes, They embrace, They kill.
iv
The clock is ticking, The phone is ringing, The music is brazen, Says not to live well.
v
The water splashes ashore, My feet soak beneath, The sand washes down ashore, My castle sinks beneath it.
vi
The tulips are food, And the larks are gay, Rose is nubile, Poison is fatal.
vii
The miners dig in too deep, Come out clad in black, The oil reserve erupts, Comes out, In the shade of death.
viii
The macabre mask, I see behind your countenance, The luminous glow, I see behind your eyes, You are insidious, You are mahogany, You are evil, Fire in your sockets, The fragile dance on porcelain, Taps in with soft melody, Knocks the door of the pot, Death wishes well in the swell.
ix
The clanks of pots; in the kitchen, The gushing of stream; in the backyard, The creek looks eerie, The gushing of the stream; in the garden, The owl sits on the twig, Snaps and dies, The owl howls, In the dark of the night.
x
The grills and snaps, The smoke and the dew, Morning and night, Sets fire, Equal aside, Thorns and thongs, Acute and sloppy, Adjectives in paradox, Nothing is equated.
xi
Your tryst is exposed, Your nest is invaded, Your affair is farcical, Rose garden, Is a new rendezvous, Beware, lovers, Illicit gambling, Condemned on your parts.
xii
Rumbles and bumbles, The water boils and toils, The pot is shun with the heat, Rumbles and fumbles, The august air is soft, The raft is sunken in the tide, The water is fire, And the rocks are mire.
xiii
Red carpets: plush downs, Aisle murmurs: where is the bride? Bell rings: chimes as in the sill, Altar is empty: where is the priest?
xiv
The creek unsettles the myth of the lovers, They say: They died in the heart of the body of water, They embraced pain in the gulf, Swarmed by the gushing winds of rain, They say: They lay there, under the stones, They swam across, sand in the fists, Drowned by the current of tides, Legend says: The creek is haunted, By the lovers of dooms, They are still found, In the abyss of the creek.
xv
The window ledge: covered with the snow, The windowpane: covered with the sleet, The windowsills: covered with the icicles, The window frame: covered with the mask, Macabre, Unholy, Bind us in the setting sun, The horizon is far beyond, Our psalms, Our hymns, Soft treason: Judas is dead.
xvi
The abacus is obsolete, Extinct are the dinosaurs, Long gone are the isms, And rest lay, To be obsolete, Once again, for more.
xvii
The black sun rises far across, Sees the sun fiery and red, Grimaces slyly, Flees to another universe.
xviii
The numbers and arithmetic, Solve the puzzles, The lines and our palms, Delve into the life, Mysteries unfathomed, History blindfolded, Mars the finale, And the rest is just, The number and death.
xiv Lonesome, was the dove, sang with the spring, persihed in Snowfall.
xx
The monotonous shrill, of cicadas, The chirping zest, of crickets, Woods lay brazen, dare to enter, THE MAZE!
xxi
Trilogy ends, sums upto three, Trident vanquishes, sums upto another three, Tripod stands, sums upto the end, Stand and Fall, Snow and Sun, Undulates! Inundates!
xxii
Two flutes, breathe through the air, sucked in for a, way to a new symphony, Two creeks, run through the rocks, sucked in for a, way to a new fountain.
Last edited: 07-Apr-09 07:29 PM
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