The story

 

Every step, every movement
nonchalant man proclaims to be
although the face has revealed hidden sight
background throws lights upon usurped main stage
where you do not belong.

Seems the strangers know you well
likes or dislikes written over behavioural pallet
question is never been said, requested –
mouth spits out whatever suits them
slightly lifted eyebrow remains ignored.

And so, would there be a reason?

Whoever makes a change, awaits
for a time – a wave that has the spirit
uplifting youthful freshness – dispels the curse
out of the reach of those who couldn’t –
get through, knowing the reality.

As if the tears were meaningless
as if those reflected weaknesses of your heart
when you were expected to be strong
standing still facing the storm
not moving feet – cold face would crush.

Once more.

Jealous of them, satisfaction coming from simplicity
within the reach – break it, just be happy
voices – the mind that seeks far beyond
throw away, keep ignored
as they did – to you.

Frustration is feeding the words
or words were tools in the hand of the anger
expressed the feeling that keeps burning
eroding deep down the soul
collecting the price that was promised.

Confused repeatedly does same mistakes
wild animal raging through the cell –
iron grid preventing you from them
the world where you do not belong
like a stage at the end of the act.

The fog.

Moral of the story – what would it be
be alive, chase silly dreams
no one has rights to tell you’re wrong
unlike the mum – she has fair right though
you, you are the one that matters.

And has the power to change 
the background –
the foundation you were built on.

 

 

Advertisements

The wind

 

Echo, my voice – no one’s gonna hear
whether I scream or cry
hope being charged – lasted that long
so many things at once appear
taking it on, fighting it all
falling down further – no more
perish the fog, darkness let me in
for a second let me breathe
gather my mind into single piece
burn me alive – and restore
believe

 

Such evening
the wind blows out a paper
right in front of me
through the house –
among settled dust
windows wide opened
curtains rolled apart
the sound, the rage –
swoosh banging my ears
glazed eyes, thinking
where am I

 

 

Both poems are related to each other while the climax is based on the weather, the storm and the sound of wind and rain combined – my mood was also heavily influenced, in my childhood I tend to take long walks just before the hurricane struck.

Perhaps it looks similar to posts uploaded before, nonetheless.

 

Enjoy

 

 

 

 

 

Fool

 

Desiccated ink
Bizarre handwriting in chaos written down
The notebook contains – awfully real
Somewhere, at some point
Reminder – we were

No longer close
Silly delusion broke off the chain
Flourish relief – the hostile past
Itchy the skin when the mind goes by
And finds

Same old excuses
Habits hanged out – within the reach
Tempting the taste of comfort
I’m sure
It would disappear

The mirror – the crack
In front of me
Madness deluded sweet lie

Repeated the circle – oh, stupid boy
Why have you got so wrong
Being this far – losing it all

Start off again, you fool

 

 

 

 

 

Recipe for disaster

Once upon a time, mesmerised wee brat had the idea to please people around him so that the fear of becoming and facing his own self – was delayed. Provoked manipulative skills, crafted a web of shallow lies in an attempt to detach reality from his imagined world where he hadn’t had to reconcile in-born flaws or behavioural patterns, as long as no one pointed out his dysfunctional, self-destructive path.

In fact, no one ever did.

Continue reading “Recipe for disaster”

The black

 

Coloured glasses you wear not seeing the black
Living the life – profound meaning far enough
The death comes by when you cannot see
Walk to the rainbow – pot of gold underneath
Sorrow they feel has nothing to do
You’re much different
Until you too…

Drop the nonsense down – the accident
Pain over pain blows up your veins
Fall off the cliff praying to God
When he won’t hear the scream
Suppressed reality reveals its claws
Torn your body apart – more coming off the fog
Monsters that didn’t to you exist
Because of the colours
The one that should’ve been

 

 

Edit: Felt inspired while listening to ID – Natural and the theme is rather dark, would be even worse but stopped myself from touching the taboo – will leave it for the next time.

Patience

Pitch-black bottom retains the line – the one I won’t cross just yet, afraid of light and scared of the pain, quietly sobbing removing all it takes.

My list – my flaws – written over the page, scoring off points regarding past mistakes. Improved within when rounded sun rises up – wish the winter arrives soon enough.

Short daytime thus the darkness appeal, a season in which confidence bursts up. Patience to wait for what should be done – trace towards the change, playing other pawns.

Taken off the bin full of little parts – seeking answers.

Indeed then found message coded through, couldn’t get it when it mattered too – I’m going to grab and take what I want, achieve whatever I can. Because the loner has no need for you – he himself must have the power to do so.

 

 

Cigarette trance

 

Smoke imitates gestures
flowing around the room
fills the nostrils
and my chest
cough cracked the silence
not because of lack of air
the reason
so trivial – tiredness
of people whom I see
through the cigarettes spirals
pointed – the blame hanged up
on me

Facade made of strength
that people believe
inside – the sponge leaks
scarlet liquid
your own body bleeds
gentle smile
glowing eyes
behind – the ghost
wrecked shell of you