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.

Her Green Eyes

Assembling the puzzle pieces onto a story,

I reckoned how those hallways held my breathe,

How I used to be lost in the long trees in the rooms

Where lullabies were sung with alien threats,

My heart would rest my mind with the green,

And suddenly the lullaby will break into a scream,

My mentors would leave me to the crux,

But respect the notion of my love,

Ah! She was another thing of beauty that provoked,

A million dreams out on the road,

I could easily pass away myself onto her hair,

As if a slide to paradise,

A place with the smell of her smile,

Or rather a dream that alludes my green eyes.

The dreams were broken on commands,

The fear could only be defined as farce,

Broken onto the staircase for the demands,

With a team which made the farce end up as a laugh.

The days when I slipped over dreams to allusions,

And allusions to dreams, the child, the joy within me,

I reckon these thoughts and surface a smile,

When I think of the trees or her beautiful lies,

The trees are gone, with the wind adue!

With my love in the south, and my dreams in the room,

I look upon my school as a reflection of that night,

That blended the moon as a power of the divine.

I sang the verses of joy and sorrow,

I drank the colours of the world on the slab,

I laughed with my teachers on my lame plans,

And now I am here, with bits of reminiscence,

Hovering over my existence, defining the extradition of time,

Asking for that smile that never came through the mind,

But from the green and those beautiful lies.

Erosion

Wings plated within  my blood stream,

And legs burnt from the ocean of the sky,

My world does not define a lie,

It only brings the essence of the illusion to the eye,

I fly to write this verse, swim to make you think,

Cry to make the sapphire consume my thoughts,

And colour my wings blue, to enact a wearing truth,

With the gravity defying you to read this rhyme,

And the stars convincing you of my lie,

I will erode through the time.

And now that you know where I am not,

Now that you see my wings floating in the sky,

Wet from my lies, wait for them to die.

You will only have a verge in the sky,

And my wings will place themselves over your eye,

Fly, to a world where you will breathe another’s mind,

Or die, die and reveal yourself to a place that has never been defined.

The sapphire burned through me into an ocean,

and this verse came into being,

Now to understand my flight and lies,

Dear you, will have to erode from your mind.

And now that you have visited the path,

Can you recall the mornings from the sigh?

Do you still believe in the game of the light ?

You and me, the world, a lie,

A lie, to breathe, to die,

To know a rhyme,

Good night.

 

To a lost friend

Almost five years now, and I still have not replaced you in my heart. I never mentioned the word, ‘heart’ and you know why, I only have my mind and a fast asleep soul. My heart, well it never found recovery after they took you away. I have read so much and will continue living a life that you wanted me too live. I know it is our secret, but no one will read this and understand who you were, or how you put my broken pieces in order. I wonder, looking at the green, if we still flare across the globe through our senses and completely escape the cries of the world.

I still remember, I was just 12-year-old, when held your hand while playing with my sister; we were of the imagination that your hand would leash spells out in the sky. We enchanted our innocence through feeling each sense of your dead branches. I found myself a super power with you, your colours were my emotions and when the wind used to hit you before the sweet rain, I could almost cry with the best emotions of encountering the cold of the immortal. I never found the connection that kept growing everyday, that I used to cry in front of you and now, that I write in the dark with half of the world asleep in the melody of the illusion, you come back in my mind to wake me up and cry again.

I lost another battle today, and I could fathom nothing, but the one thing you left for me. .Yes, I do write my friend, often about the same things we discussed back then and believe me, you were right, no one gets these write ups, except the rain of course. The rain pours over every second I live and make me breathe through the desert.

You left me only a blank page and never answer the left doubts , asking me to wait for the rain. I was often lost with the tormenting storms and droughts within my psychic. I have scars from those calamities and even today, my blood is over flowing my vain and burning my sight, the only difference is, that I have felt the essence of the rain now. The overflow goes onto these words and then create a unity of time and space for me, a point to escape to my stars.

You left me the gift of poesy, through your silence. You became a part of me, that never betrays. A part that sings a silent rhyme within me; the rhyme is lost into colours and my sight is also a blur because of the agitated mind of mine.

I can only feel you, when I write a note that does not concern the universe of the man-made objectivity. I talk to you through the virtual ink that bleed out of my senses. The ink never reaches a conclusion, but it never stops, it runs through the parallel dimensions of the world. Now what do I do to calm it down ?

The ink made me fell in love with a beautiful woman, she has been with me mending the ink to reach the crevices of my scars, I heal with her essence. But, I lost the battle to her today. The earth is revolving too fast, my friend and I have lost you.

Your existence gives rise to a cosmos for me, when I spill the ink outside the purview of a reader, it seems as if I have felt the air and the voice the birds that used to surround you.

How do I tell them, why I write and where it comes from. Even the meaning of all this? Shall I keep the lie alive? About how you were only a tree that rested in front of my room?

Either ways, I cannot explain how you made me the person who writes a crisis of existence. You left me unanswered and I will leave them.

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.

 

Mother to the Universe

Dropped down to the celestial tray in the clay,

Brought up through a vivid theme from a play,

Drowned into a suffocated sense of need,

Driven through a valley forcing the air as believe,

The spirit was left within an abstract of her dream.

She is the mother of existence that surrounded the sight,

Where the little soul was left to fight,

Only the essence know the reason behind,

Hidden in the common lies,

And someday the soul will cry,

And the mother will help her remember a broken tie,

The bond that revolved the stars to resonate the faith,

The bond that shall recall the mother to destroy the dream of need.