Incarnation of The Words

 A little dwell on the pen to enumerate an expression,

To let the ghost be aware of the dark,

Or the dark be afraid of my ghost,

To entangle a hopeless vision and adore,

A million feelings that knock my door.

A poet, they say need the cry of the muse,

But will they ever know the secret of the doom?

For every time, I lose myself into the room of words,

I call upon a thousand spirits,

To guide my hands and spell the right song.

Enumerating through my past,

The affair of the ink to last,

To repeat the same sentiment of my greed,

I befoul myself into a clown.

To paint me in the ink and enrol the aura of belief,

A poet, they say need the cry of the muse,

But who am I to lie?

I can only wonder and host a point of view.

A Date With Luna Lovegood

“Waiting for something to happen by the shore of The Great Lake? You must be a Hufflepuff.” It was a female, as the voice suggested; I was nerved and could not fathom the thought of anyone being near the lake at this hour, I turned and found Luna from Ravenclaw. She was there in a blue dress and with her wandering blue eyes, she seemed beautiful under the moonlight reflecting of the water.

“You scared me, I visit this place to meet a friend of mine and yes, Hufflepuff. How come a Ravenclaw wizard is roaming in the night without her books ?” I smiled and played a joke hoping to initiate a conversation, I had heard about Luna from a lot of people, they said she is insane and always lost within her thoughts, her blue dress made her look flawless and to follow my interests, insane is the essence of magic to me.

“I wonder around from books to imaginations, I don’t like being precise to a point, I am here to wonder and find a place to lose myself again.” her voice was a sweet rain of absurd thoughts, no wonder people call her insane. No matter how vague it all sounded, I was falling for her already, It seemed she was herself a magical illusion of the stars.

“You want to walk around the shore? If my friend is here soon, maybe you can meet him. And while we walk, maybe find a place for you to be lost in your imagination?” I had to make the invitation to know her more, Aeonian would wait for me or even catch up somewhere.

“Let’s walk. The lake ? Who are you waiting for over here? I come here to see those beautiful creatures sometimes. Have you even been inside? ” This could barely make sense to me, I flexed my hand to feel my senses, but the cold had slowed  my blood flow and I was numb. All I could do is look at her.

“Inside the lake ? No! Of course not, I love animals but there are some, who are very dangerous inside, I have read about them. My favorite are the Merpeople, I have heard their noise can make one intoxicated into obliviation. It will like listening to a song and then resting all our thoughts into the lake.”

She giggled and came close to me, ” You know who I am right ?”

I drove my numb hands to hold her, I had an urge to hug her at once. I went for it, but could not grab her, she had no body. I was numb to my heart then. She came closer passing through my skin and pressed her lips against mine. “You know who I am right, Sagar?”

The blue dress turned into a lake, the lake was screaming out loud and the taste was still of her lips. I escaped my sight from the scary transition and felt her lips. The colour red flashed onto my imagination and when I opened my eyes, the lake was all red, I close my eyes again and lost the essence of her lips. I could feel a warm sense and my throbbing heart, this must be Aeonian, the phoenix. My friend Aeonian, I could feel his fire burning my illusions away. A phoenix who had saved me even before from the blue of my fears. I opened my eyes and saw Aeonion burning the great ocean and luna mending into his fire wings. I close my eyes, I could not see my friend mending with the cold of a ghost that possessed me in the wild.

I decided not to open my eyes again, till the flash of colours disappear from my senses.

Overtime, I knew where I was. I was laying in my room. I had slept with a blank page resting on my chest and the blue pen by my side, uncovered to its tip. As if the blue ink kissed the empty space of my dreams and gave another idea to write. I was lost into a vision, but my blood took me back to my senses. The blue of the moon made me dream, but the red of the sun had arrived in the sky and I was late for my morning class.

Symphony of Symbols: Linkin Park-Heavy Music Video Interpretation

Music brings arenas of life that cannot be surrounded by the social walls and with a suplement of a music video, the story can renovate or evolve revolutions to the man kind. The development of music has witnessed how the impact of arts can be traced down through the society; every movement in the history associate them-self with an anthem that propagate their agenda, a simple example can be the origin of the Sufi movement and the musical contemporary to the divine belief set.

The contemporary might be the place of peace and an elaborate sense of customs that can make lives fairly productive, but the medical advancement stands weak in front of a plague that is hunting down a major population on the globe.

The mental distress has provoked a sense of agony in the different age groups and lifestyle, escapism has found another avocation of healing with the outspread of this tendency. Linkin Park, a band that screen out symbolism of the contemporary at its best always finds an important issue to rhyme for the world stage.

The latest song, Heavy is captured in a direction frame where a girl is left unrecognized in the video and the man who is associated with it, cant seem to fathom himself and therefore his relationship with the female.

The lyrics produce a strong command over the relationship with metaphor that brings the intensity of the importance. The female brings out a lost entity that general aggression of life dissolves into an invisible power.

The reference can stand on a mystical ground defining the female to represent a soul, or even a simple structure of the lost sense of satisfaction in the modern world. The music video is wrapped under a dull vision, enumerating the amount of confusion and agony that a contemporary man holds against life.

Simple references of the universe and the weight holds significance to bring out the symphony that is set as a target.

The modern escapism theories are integrated with this need to find the lost conscious entity and explore the power of the union that can provoke the sense of satisfaction and understanding in the complex puzzle of the social structure.

Linkin Park- Heavy

 

A Lullaby from the Stars

I will keep this simple, like our stars,

And I will provide you the scope to the horror,

Maybe the scope to our heart,

My constellation shaped up an ocean for me to breathe,

Deep, blue as if the sky was my land,

And the world was left with an infinite depth,

I was left alone to swim, seek and find.

I was blinded by my thoughts that resonated in my mind,

Hoping they will recon an idea in the space,

Hoping that the stars will recover the creation of my faith.

And then, after sixteen years of wondering in the ocean,

The space revolved around as music creating magic,

The magic that shaped you through the notes,

A fairy that could oscillated with me in the empty space,

I remained my blue after your wings,

The wings that could take me to the real sky,

You were the creation that helped me realize,

The vivid sense of magic hidden beneath the eye.

I hope you know my name, I am the marine of the night,

That called out for the day,

The stars, they planned our scars,

The formations that lead to rain,

And when the time comes,

The lullaby shall renovate showering a vision of reality from the opaque,

With the onset of another day,

We will fly away.

 

The Lost Ink

Have you felt the need to escape, my friend,

Have you ever touched the essence of your breath,

Maybe the hidden tear of the grief,

Maybe the word from the red ink that never preach,

Yes , I know how cries go of with grief,

And the words leave the ink and the need to believe,

This makes me wonder ,

 Are we those souls that left paradise,

Without a hint of what is left behind,

Are we those words that never meant an emotion,

Or is this a rhyme that makes no sense?

Maybe I am writing with the insane ink,

And maybe I am high on those allusions and dreams,

Where I saw the brightness enchant the terms of life,

Where the grief was stuck,

But the tear rolled into the deep sigh,

And again I might have flowed down with it,

And now I miss my grief,

I hope that the grief is looking down,

Oh! I know it is looking down,

On all the tear drop that fell from it,

And soon we will resonate back to the heights,

Unlike words that were never defined,

We will find our solace and escape the prison of the mind,

I did not take opium as my latter,

I am not Coleridge, but an anonymous rhyme,

The one I myself will never be able to recite,

I am that thought that you gave away to the world,

To the mirage of happiness ,

And the plague that  corrupted our sense,

The one sense that deals with the grief,

The one whose union is immortal to our believe,

I am that high enchanted rhyme,

I am lost rather hidden in a crown,

Wear that crown to find me ,

The crown of spirituality,

Find your own crown to find me,

That’s all this rhyme has to speak,

Raise yourself high but not with your deed,

Raise yourself high with your believe,

And find the lost grief.

 

Mira’s Darkness

Held by the symphony of the universe,

She danced to the music of the rain,

But the world, too rational to understand,

Drove a concrete wall to her land,

She blended her love into a rhyme,

For the world to dance in the night,

But how do they fathom darkness as their light,

How do they believe the world doesn’t render their dreams,

She plated the words onto a social plane,

Thinking maybe the souls will rejoice the claims,

And dance to the beats of the illusion that these shadows create,

But nothing was left of her to preach the world,

She went as one to the source of the song,

And the world was left with a blur of her aim,

They danced, but only on the plate she made,

Only her words remained under the literal space,

And here a son writes her account misunderstood by the human race.

Highway To Words

The ink will spill in the sky,

And everything will be coloured blue,

The birds of connotation will vibrate my senses with their music,

And I will be left alone in the vehicle of the loom.

The ink will then weave the world around me,

On a white raw planet,

And as soon as the colours will hit a vision,

I will be feeling a sense that only colours can meet after spilling a smile,

Only stars could revive while the universe celestial light cry for life,

Only the warriors who spilled red on the rough field,

And made a nation out of their reach,

But the highway to poesie is such,

That even while wearing the crown of creation,

The ink will feel dreadful about how the eyes will fathom a believe within me

And I will be a warrior wicked with deeds that humans cannot steal.

Poesie is a vivid structure unknown of its need,

But it swirls like cancer within me.