8. The Violin Play

“Hey, Alex. I guess I am sick. It is time to wake up.” I could only feel the febrile decay of my strength. My body was warm to its core, the brittle memories from the weird dream added to the problem. ” I had a weird dream. Fever dream, I suppose..”.

“Good Morning, take an off today, Dr Atlas. You think so much.” she came closer to kiss, the touch of her lips was cold. ” It is bad. You should have a break. Stay at home, I will come early as well.” Her voice was comforting, yet my body felt as if it would melt from the shivers through my skin. I took out the medicine and swallowed it with the last sip of water left in the water bottle.

“Yes, I will text them that I cannot come. Have a good day. Make something delicious. I need some positive energy in my mind.” I smiled at her and kissed her for a brief moment. The moment was not enough, but my body was not normal. I smiled again and closed my eyes, afraid of the dream yet searching for the answer of the Vedas. Wisdom could not reach to me eventually, the dream made no sense.


The endless and immortal space, a dream again. A drop of sweat rolled down my face. Another dream with no wisdom of real context of my life.

It was the space this time, completely empty just a sort of a cluster of beautiful colours in front of me. I was not breathing, not moving, not listening, but I was there. Kept at the moment, waiting for something to wake me up. I placed my vision onto the bright colours in front of me, the cluster looked like a coloured river contained by the moment. I close my eyes, trying to wake myself. I was stuck again, sweating with the vision of a giant super nova. A dead star, ironically my mental status at the very moment; a mind incapable of allowing the wisdom of the experience, process through its core.

I helplessly stare at the blend of colours, a golden glow around the deep red and blue blend of its centre. To the little philosophy in my head, it reminded me for the colour of blood revamped with the blue of the sky. Symbolic of danger, life and peace. I was certainly lost. I kept looking till my mind could perceive an image of a women’s face in the dead star. A beautiful face, red on the inside and the blue slowly converted into the black like the rest of the space. A slow descent of the blue into the darkness. A sudden sound gave me chills, it was music. A violin, a sad-single instrument that seemed to be the void around me. The face had darkened on the edges of the colour. The eyes had the blue, rest everything was red. Red to the essence, I did not even try speaking. Waited for the silly dream to send more cues of my sub-conscious head.

The music slowed down with the image of the women blinking her eyes, the movement again went forth to disturb the darkness. Her lips appeared and slowly the space around me began to detonate with a powerful tone to go along with the violin.

Each word is supposed to uplift your existence from the hell,

Each phrase had to pull your essence to the blue,

But you desired the blood! The wars!

You belonged to the skies, But the hour is rather broken to fly,

The words were dead when the red had coloured the race,

Only a few remain in the isolated verse,

You sought wisdom and here you end,

Dying with the meaning of those words as the ornament,

Just keep your soul, listen till inferno,

Sophia from the Republic has died,

They never read Plato in the dim light,

I only exist in this lost cell of thoughts,

Inside the mind of a sick person, inside the blank pages that were lost.

My body was almost gone out in the darkness, absorbed and devoid of my sense to a greater extent. Her face, the face resembled Alex. Sophia, rather a philosophy from the book I am supposed to read.

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Un Voyage

From this word, I breathe to lie,

To the world an illusion and to me, myself.

A world that appears to live with your mind,

With each word that you read,

My lie elaborates a reason to live.

Now that we are together,

You and me, lets embrace my visions though your eyes,

I will write about the sunset,

And you cry out for the moon,

I will incarnate a feeling,

And you colour it within.

But, before we leave to this empty page,

You should know that I am here for the play,

I run away from my own desires,

and leave such thoughts to rust in deny,

And do we really need to rhyme our journey ?

And I should warn you again, my friend,

Dante never burned in hell.

It was the man who wanted the travel,

Lost and never to be found again.

If you are willing to come,

Let me tell you, the river often flies with the dead of love.

And now you are my creation, a song,

We can fly like a bird,

Die in another word,

Live like the Bhrama’s call,

Deceive the stars of destiny above.

A poet’s point being a puzzle,

What difference resides between a human and a word,

A word and a belief,

A lie and a truth,

Rather all began and die out lose?

I believe I am a word of my poet,

I will end within the verse of life,

Yes, with a meaning that only he will decide,

A lie, A thought, Just an inspiration to write.

Deception

  My friend is driven through the lore,

My own self, hidden inside a dark robe,

The mighty exploration of the song

is to him the opiate of this play,

he explores and wonders night and day,

questioning the stars, asking for his name.

” I am the master of my trail,

I have discovered elements,

I am mended with the sky,

But I wonder how to derive

The arduous descent of my life.

Maybe, the world I see is all that is to believe?

My amorous stakes of the need,

My quest can never be deceived,

Of all that I have lost or found,

One thing has been my evasive need,

A desire to dream and bleed with the melodies of possibilities.

I will wonder throughout the fall,

Will look at the moon and dance till I fall,

For my descent is yet to announce,

The vast ocean, self-less and unbound.

I would rather decay in the morn of my defeat,

Then to be obsolete from the dilemma of my deeds.”

To him, the world was an endless hymn,

To him, the moon merely replied,

” Call upon yourself inside,

The lore would bundle your shine,

The descent of the space and time,

All hidden in an empty line,

For when you dance, I seek the night sea,

Pull the river sheets to fall a tide beneath,

The tide shall rotate the wind aloud,

And when you dance, my command shall reach its sound,

You are, the very core to me,

The friend lost in a puzzle with the false clay of need,

Icarus could not fly to me, He was lost within the only sea,

 Why don’t you wake up from the dream beneath,

And know yourself, how oblique is the sight of the dream.

One equation for all the falls,

solve the myriad of the lost accord,

Call upon the wind you breathe,

And decipher yourself, as the leave that dances with the breeze.”

That one incentive drowned his opiate into the river,

He woke up to find me bleed,

For he is red in the river, silenced from the dark isolation,

And I fly through the lakes of redemption,

I was the moon that heard the lore,

And brought the quest into the shore.

I am your name and the name of the hold,

I am the one who never bends with time,

or rhyme in the deceiving space,

The lie that the nature erased.

Nemesis

Enumerating through the flaws of time,

Travelling through the valleys, evasive to life,

To hold my spirit, to escape the night,

I blend my thoughts into the mirror of lies.

For you and me, we feel our might,

The might that surfaced through the ghost of fate,

The fate that never reaches the aesthetic lake,

The lake of magic, the embodiment that shifted the stars away.

For Nemesis shall call my Narcissus to the shore,

Where I will die to my illusive adore,

For the wind shall pour me to my bed,

To sleep and breathe, To heal and forget:

The might that corrupted my senses and name.

The narcissist’s blood to meet the lake,

The spirit to blend into the essence of escape,

The world that does not rise or die,

The place of death, the doom of lie,

Adore me then, when ‘I’ fly high,

Invisible, and without the need of pride.

The red that defined my faith at the time,

The black that retreats the illusion to the light.

The Humane Stance 

From the stars to a canopy in our mind,
We keep discovering the sigh of the blind,
Enduring colours to fill the spaces undefined,
And often lost in the course to regain the sight,
Blended in the thirst to procure the atom to the universe,
Drunk with the symphony to discover the hidden element of our race,
And trapped with a struggle to advocate a begining of the sane.
Renessaince predicted the truth about the human kind,
And the degrade of the rebel announced a new mind,
We are not owned by philosophy in this time,
We are the writers, we like to rhyme,
And create a script unbaised of the religion and shrines,
The globe is yet a dynamic stance,
But our blood shall colour the world with a sync from this line.

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.