Fear. Faith. Choice.

I killed a man once. It felt good after a while of performing this act. A certain sense of relief, a certain kind of strange unknown satisfaction grasped me by my throat.  I used to be scared of blood. The sight of even a small amount would make me faint. There are very few things in the world that I hate, fear appears to rank topmost in that list. The world otherwise is very beautiful for me, nature is fascinating and I keep wondering at this perfect geometry of existence. I never disliked any particular person, I am very understanding by nature. I respect perspectives and I never held a grudge on any human being or any element. Never have I had any complains about life. A contented, calm state of mind is something I usually possessed, most of the time. However, such times did not last longer. A sense of fear would snatch away this identity of mine and throw me to a world where I would not recognise myself.  Hemophobia wasn’t the only disturbing factor in my life, but ye

'One-eyed Movement' You glared at my soul, Piercing my heart with arrows from your hellhole; Burning my blood with flames of Themis, Burying my body in the ashes of her phoenix; Drowning me in rhymes and rhythms of ecstasy, Amidst your ebb and flow of endless melancholy; Sketching me again with your strokes of resurrection, Provoking me with your voices of insurrection, While warping me to your feet for renunciation.  You glared at my soul, Demanding my memories that you stole; Exposing me to my own vanity, Splintering my sanity; Whispering me to carry on, While singing of the white swan. “Why?”, I asked, yet all along in your silence I knew, For only in faith you grew; For only in trust could you exist,  And charge me to persist; So all along you drank the potion of my obedience, While consuming my resistance; For what?; For me to keep encircling you, For me to see through, And open my heart to your shine, Only for

Rustic is the feeling  Wanderer is the mind  East or west, I don't know  Yet here I am  Lost and found.  Fire is burning out  While the snow is melting  Leaves are falling  Yet here I am Frozen in time. Words, words, words  Vibrations and echoes  Multitudes of colours and forms  Yet here I am  Deaf and blind.  Burden of blood  Duty of spirit  Necessity beyond all  Yet here I am  Inert and still.  Rusted was iron and d ecayed was the world, The egg and the snake made love together Till birth and death took form. Chaos gazed as his own tears, Reflected were glimpses of Order. It was then that my name was called thrice, Yet here I am, with voices in your dreams and  Silent in your breath.