Category: Poetry


Fate's Great Banquet!

XLNC Poetry | By Aditya | 2010 Trackbacks (0) Comments (2)   
This is my story,
of my silent life.
Desolation cries out.
The inflicted malice.

This is an old story,
Authored by loneliness.
Each wound weeps,
and tells me its tale.

This is my chronicle of chronicles.
A legacy without legends
I pick out thorns from my memories
I am living in the shadow of falling walls

Hatred sings in my garden of horror
The rain of death showers all the time
My eyes dance in emptiness
There is no one, no one at all
How long can I wait in this void
There is no one, no one at all
Neither close nor distant

There is a fear flowing,
It is saying something to me
I pick out thorns from my memories
I am living in the shadow of falling walls

The sounds of my heartbeats,
Are the voices that keep me alive.
But it swallows my blood
And slaughters my dreams

I am now secluded and deserted,
But I have the vigour and strength.
There is hope tangled in my memories,
there is a Hope of LIFE!

This heart is a forest of memories;
This heart is surrounded by hatred and disgust.
I pick out thorns from my memories;
I am living in the shadow of falling walls.


2009 - An Anthology!

General XLNC Poetry | By Aditya | 2010 Trackbacks (0) Add comment   
Time passes like ripples in a pond. Nostalgia.

Every belief is a gamble, the universe a casino, the world a roulette. And each second is worth itself in millions.

The twilight memories come back to haunt,
Death and all his friends come and taunt.
Memento Mori nightmares and more:
I dream of sorrow, loss and the white shore.

Whispers fill the air, but not of the present, they are old. Whispers of the twilight.

Through the yearn of broken hearts,
Through the pursuit for happier times,
I waded through water deep and dark
For times that would never part.

A moment that would withstand time,
A moment that would wipe out my longing,
A moment where everything is the way I wanted,
Everybody merry and not a soul depressed.

My scars tell me that they will heal,
but wounds are those I’ll always feel.

"If you were to enter the room now and say: 'I am leaving for a long time, forever' - or: 'I don't think I love you any more' - I would not, I believe, feel anything new: each time you leave, each hour that you are not here - you are not here forever and you do not love me."
- Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs

To be convinced you're depressed is a depression in itself.
Unless, that is, you really are depressed.

When days and nights are divided.
When the heart is ripped out from the soul.
When the life is sucked out of your body.
When you want to forget it but you forget to.
When your heart drowns in the memories...
When your mind aches for the reminiscences.
Then you know that you are truly - ADDICTED!!

Every question must have an answer.
And Death is the purifying mark.
It pays off all your life’s debts.
It brings you radiance in the dark.

Where are the Prophets and where are the Seers?
Have we no one now to look forward?
Where have we gone wrong?
A world where to err is human...
But where is the divinity to forgive?

This World of Mine has Ended!


Hollowed Voices!

General XLNC Time Poetry | By Aditya | 2009 Trackbacks (0) Comments (1)   

Sometimes the hardest thing in life is to know which bridge to cross and which to burn. - David Russell

MEMENTO MORI: Remember you must die

As I close my eyes and see the darkness grow,
The room glooms down and the shadows flow,
The twilight memories come back to haunt,
Death and all his friends come and taunt.
Memento Mori nightmares and more:
I dream of sorrow, loss and the white shore,
My body is dead and my ghost alive,
For whom do I live, work and strive?
Every scar and wound of mine is in bloom
My end is near, my life is at doom.
How long should I wait for sunshine?
Is this what is left of my life’s design?
Everything transforms when the axis will alter,
Oh! But how many times does one life falter?

Inspired by the Persian movie Ta'm-e gīlās (Taste of Cherry) by Abbas Kiorastami.

I AM THE BRIDGE YOU BURN!!

 



At Eternity's Gate

XLNC Time Poetry | By Aditya | 2009 Trackbacks (0) Comments (3)   
I love time travel. I would do anything, absolutely anything, to go back in time. Just go back in time. I don’t want to see the future; I don’t want any of the silly present world ignominy. I just want to witness my past and change it.

Change one thing, Change everything.

The silence was deafening and there was stillness.
The stillness of a man in the midst of the dance of his commotions.
I was that man. My decisive moment was set to arrive.
I was to choose from eternal ecstasy or momentary bliss.
 
In the course of the tranquillity and the symmetry,
I could see through instances and aeons.
But I needed not the future but the past,
I wished to view the times gone by than the unknown.

Reliving the moments that had passed,
Feeling what I felt before and more,
Wishing to change times of yore,
Making sure all is better than before.

Through the yearn of broken hearts,
Through the pursuit for happier times,
I waded through water deep and dark
For times that would never part.

To drink from the fountain of eternal life,
Had been my plan from the start,
But now at the end of the quest,
I needed not immortality but a rest.

At Eternity’s Gate I wished not life,
I craved for death and all his friends,
But before I was laid to rest,
I yearned for a moment from the past.

A moment that would withstand time,
A moment that would wipe out my longing,
A moment where everything is the way I wanted,
Everybody merry and not a soul depressed.

I can have no more of the past,
But infinite amounts of the future.
But I beg for a second’s worth of history
I’ll trade it for my head on a silver plate.

The silence was deafening and there was stillness.
The stillness of a man in the midst of the dance of his distractions.
I am that man. My decisive moment had arrived for me.
I had chosen death over immortality.

P.S. - A silly little poem as I post the first of my articles related to time travel.


My Scars... Wounds That Never Heal?

Bipolar Disorder Time Poetry | By Aditya | 2009 Trackbacks (0) Comments (5)   

A bout with resurrection,
The failure learning from mistakes
My scars remind me that the past was real,
My scars are where Fate pierced me with cold steel.

The ways of Time-to inflict and forget,
Never too soon,never too late
My scars are silent screams,
My scars are broken dreams.

Hollow songs mark your lies,
Empty Poetry repeats the Truth to none
My scars are how Love hurt,
My scars were etched when I lost Hope.

Living upto the world that stretched me too far,
I cried,I bled when no one saw
My scars tell me that they will heal,
but wounds are those I’ll always feel.

Hailstorms of ideas,
Innovation inspired by the Legends,
But no one looks up.
Beauty in the innocence of age
And the world that kills it,
But no one looks up.

My scars are only for me to know,
My scars are only for me to feel.
My scars are my own,
That no other will know.

- ANONYMOUS??



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