i have an affair ... its secret ... but never mind, she knows and i know and that is all that matters.
she is blind ... but never mind, she speaks and sings most exquisitely in so many different tones .
she has expensive tates ... but never mind, the sweet nothings she whispers in my ear are worth it.
she insists on coming eveywhere with me ... but never mind, that increases the intimacy.
she's not from India ... but never mind, love is blind to colors and cultures.
she disturbs me in the night ... but never mind, that's the best part.
she has so much in her ... but never mind, i just love exploring.
she has so many buttons ... but never mind, that only makes things easy.
she keeps my hands busy ... but never mind, i just love doing that.
ThoughtCrime
He was locked up deep in a cellar and the key was thrown away.
He had screamed and shouted his innocence in court. No-one listened. He was being punished for a crime he never committed. Sure, he had thought about it. But he never acted on it.
In my books, that is the crime. But that was not why he was punished.
It was close to seven years now. For seven years, he was locked up in that dark and dingy cell. He saw others come and go. They never stayed long. Most were released on parole. The luckier ones were set free on bail and almost never turned up again.
"Who gave one man the right to be my judge, jury and executioner?" His prison echoed with his plaintiff cries.
He scratched and clawed on the walls, desperate to somehow leave his mark in this world. He wanted others to read his story, to know his plight. He did not want to die an anonymity.If he had a second chance ... what would he do? ... what could he do? His life flashed before his eyes so often. It was a story of chances thrown. He realised that nothings free, and certainly not freedom. He longed for what used to be ... For seven years he stared beyond his prison without seeing anything. In his minds eye, he saw the world changing, evolving, moving without him. Everything had changed. He would not. He could not accept a compromise. In the end, he decided to stay locked up.
So, one day, he lay down and got up no more. While the world dreamed on ...
In The End ...
The whispers of the night catch my imagination
They talk to me, they taunt me, mock me
They know me, who i am
My shadow is bound to me
As i am bound to this world
Fragile thoughts resound in my head
Crashing…searching for a release
Breaking and flowing down my cheeks
In the darkness i live
In my solitude i grow
i can be alone, yet not lonely
And lonely and yet not alone
In the end you are my solitude
In the end you are my loneliness
In the end, its you…
They talk to me, they taunt me, mock me
They know me, who i am
My shadow is bound to me
As i am bound to this world
Fragile thoughts resound in my head
Crashing…searching for a release
Breaking and flowing down my cheeks
In the darkness i live
In my solitude i grow
i can be alone, yet not lonely
And lonely and yet not alone
In the end you are my solitude
In the end you are my loneliness
In the end, its you…
I Walk Alone
At sundown i lie with a broken heart
Same old shadows stretch across the street
Same old memories back to haunt me
As between silence and space i linger.
It falls all around me ... silence ...
The calmness deafening in my head
Darkness spreads its fingers
Into every corner of my soul.
Nights offer comfort, sleep solace
On the wings of a dream i fly
With the saddest thoughts to guide my way
But come the morn, i'll walk alone.
The serenity of dreams is shattered
By the silent screams of the heart
And each hope is killed
By the sure, swift blows of fate
Every night i tell myself
This loneliness cant last much more
Darkness will soon turn to light
All i have is a lifetime to go ....
Same old shadows stretch across the street
Same old memories back to haunt me
As between silence and space i linger.
It falls all around me ... silence ...
The calmness deafening in my head
Darkness spreads its fingers
Into every corner of my soul.
Nights offer comfort, sleep solace
On the wings of a dream i fly
With the saddest thoughts to guide my way
But come the morn, i'll walk alone.
The serenity of dreams is shattered
By the silent screams of the heart
And each hope is killed
By the sure, swift blows of fate
Every night i tell myself
This loneliness cant last much more
Darkness will soon turn to light
All i have is a lifetime to go ....
When Dreams Die ...
Everyone just stood there looking on as one by agonising one the nails were rammed into the coffin with silent empathy - sealing within it the fate of its occupant. With slow and deliberate precision the hammer rained blow upon blow on the defenseless nail driving in the reality that there was no looking back.
Twenty-four nails in all were used. Twenty-four!! The last four stubbornly refusing to go in. The ferocity of the strikes increased twisting, disfiguring and forcing submission.
It lay there dying in the sun smiling at the faces that looked down on it and wishing that the tears that fell on it had come sooner…about four or so nails ago. Now the tears just watered the soil making it easier to dig…helping the process along.
The hole was ready.
After twenty-four years, this last journey of six feet didn’t seem so far down. It did not matter. These six feet was the culmination of a lifetime. Unhappiness was when it was six feet higher. But now it doesn’t give a damn.
Their faces now blotted out the sun. It lay there hoping the sun beats down on them skinning them alive just as it was stripped bare of everything it had held dear…robbed of its life…robbed of its breath.
It liked it there. The soil cradling it in its bosom as it nursed a broken dream, the sky draped as a blanket keeping out the harsh reality, a box cocooning it in everlasting privacy.
The mud was thrown it…reverently, ceremoniously covering it. Twenty-four nails and six feet later, here it was now … finally alone ... finally at peace.
They stuck the tombstone in. A grey stone encompassing in five lines its whole life just as a six by two box did six feet lower. It was down to one last breath. A flower is thrown on the patted down mud, its fragrance trailing away. Six feet lower it ...
Twenty-four nails in all were used. Twenty-four!! The last four stubbornly refusing to go in. The ferocity of the strikes increased twisting, disfiguring and forcing submission.
It lay there dying in the sun smiling at the faces that looked down on it and wishing that the tears that fell on it had come sooner…about four or so nails ago. Now the tears just watered the soil making it easier to dig…helping the process along.
The hole was ready.
After twenty-four years, this last journey of six feet didn’t seem so far down. It did not matter. These six feet was the culmination of a lifetime. Unhappiness was when it was six feet higher. But now it doesn’t give a damn.
Their faces now blotted out the sun. It lay there hoping the sun beats down on them skinning them alive just as it was stripped bare of everything it had held dear…robbed of its life…robbed of its breath.
It liked it there. The soil cradling it in its bosom as it nursed a broken dream, the sky draped as a blanket keeping out the harsh reality, a box cocooning it in everlasting privacy.
The mud was thrown it…reverently, ceremoniously covering it. Twenty-four nails and six feet later, here it was now … finally alone ... finally at peace.
They stuck the tombstone in. A grey stone encompassing in five lines its whole life just as a six by two box did six feet lower. It was down to one last breath. A flower is thrown on the patted down mud, its fragrance trailing away. Six feet lower it ...
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