The Haze

Days pass by, swift and silent in the shadows of time. I'm staring at yet another winter. Wandering in time and aging with un-finished dreams. The hollow bark always attracts unseen visitors, they come and go as seasons change.

The road ahead, dark and desolate, just one call that keeps echoing through and through. Familiar pangs resonate to the distant hum.

Beyond the invisible

The last couple of days were lengthy and dark. I'd been walking back wards in time, treading on the stones that I avoided earlier. Nothing worse than losing one self knowingly. 'am I expecting some drama here? When the curtain has fallen, the audience move on.

I introspect inbetween these deep breaths and look at all those stones I'd thrown. Shattered few glasses here and there, some of them happen to be mine. Looking back through this cracked mirror, I see images of me all distorted and shady. I'd been hiding from myself and running from the truth. The long drawn sword of truth always itches to taste the blood of the beholder.

Pain is no visitor to me, I grew up with it and at some point was so alive being lifeless. At times I hear those shrill screams, the last of those days always wanders home to me. I find them and lift them to these blinded eyes.

I hear the claps of the passing clouds, distant rumble of thunder rolls through the blue sky. A dot of rain speckles the green leaves. I look up to trees, that dance and wriggle shedding off those leave that are weak. They drift by aimless and meek. I realize I have to shed some too.

The next few seconds crawl in to the vacuum of time, lost and gone. The breeze breathes less and less until it all rests. A dull silence fills the air, heavy and loud. The night empties it's couldron of darkness, a disappearing blur and an empty sky is all it takes to fill a disturbed mind.

With orphaned thoughts that know no end. The sky splits wide open with a streak of lightening, branching to the farthest corners of the earth starting the sprinkler in the sky.

No better feeling than this, soaked with out a purpose. No path no land, don't want no home nor any hearts around. Alone at this moment. I think of this world, so full of mourners. Wanderers in time salvaging whatever we can and living between choices and roads.

A quite hum fills my heart, I'm in no race with time. I have it all as I don't have any. I've lost them all to the past, today is just a sign of making it through. So hurrah! I made it, I maketh my own destiny. In the run I kill few dreams, live the chances and love the differences.

Ah! Love as a subject and want. I get washed away through it's course. I see valleys and mountains, streams and falls, all taking it's own course. It's a dance and I have to find a partner. Lost souls trying to make it to the end, that comes always uninvited.

The wind reads my story, time flips the pages. A book whose ending I can never read, just live it all day by day -

Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark

To travel back in time...to turn back the clock & walk the road all over again. Just Once!
Its dark and lonely, this mid-summer night's call.

Sweet lullaby

The deserted sky flung atop this satiated night
her fabric of darkness runs to the farthest corners
A still moon lies low poised on those ebbing waves
I walk the distance to the tip of the shore

I can see the faces of the moon
smiling upon this mortal kind
A sight so arresting that it sets my mind free, so free

my heart gallops a thousand miles
from past to present between those moments
when life stood still and ecstacy took over
when serenity was undone and wild

everytime I tred these shores and those waves
wet my dried up memories, a qualm that roars
to the mountains behind and yonder to those sailing clouds
i walk the distance to the tip of the shore

pebbles scattered in disarray washed up once in a while
somewhere in this ether lies my bygones
i walk the lane on this lonesome nite
so longing so real, as life itself

The riddle

It's winter in Chicago, temperatures dropping as low as -20C just enough to make me see the air I breathe. The lake has frozen yet again, as sheets of ice float and wriggle to a grizzly wind, the mundane march of mankind carries on.

How do you seclude a sequestered life that has galloped faster than time? I once thought about the loneliness of the past. How lost it should be, sometimes heavy some times as easy as the summer breeze. With it floats the scent of life that's caught in the funnel of time and slips to the present.

There is a lull, calmness so serene fostered by a splitting silence, this vision is so witnessed..by me in the past. A moment so familiar and un-tampered. It's a feeling that can only be made traquil because of the scars it carries, a life so young that it can only get old, a space so free that you can only race..this mind so occupied that it can only be emptied. There is nothing to lose at all, you are going to lose anyways.