Unfallen, and Tragic

A Happening Universe it was to them
But that didn't impress you
So you stroll up by my window in the Sea
Make me a god for moments few
To make you a Hero
Unfallen, and Tragic

My Magic Wand's in place
The pieces make up a story

I take you by your hand
You Fight The War,
The Chaos on this land
And become a Star
Here comes the Hero!
Unfallen, and tragic

The rise and fall of Grace
The fiction of lies, tales of glory

Cameras in your face, smiling
Long and penurious talks
But will you be shining
In your Den with the thought that stalks?
I made you a Hero
Unfallen, and Tragic

Magic faded, but with a trace
Piece of beauty, but a folly

You hear the rain drops
You hear the speeding train
You fear the curtain drops
Your fear the lonely lane
I made you a Hero
Unfallen, and Tragic

Not a frill, or a lace
Nothing to clothe a soul's fury

And when we traverse and brush
I do not hold your hand
I am not god, I still search
So take away my wand
That made you a Hero
Unfallen, and Tragic

Catch up to save a face
Catch up to change a story

A god was quiet, but spoke a friend,
"Look at that scar,
Cry that Tear, nevermind the trend
Dont be afraid to fear, you'll still be a star
A Hero
Still Unfallen, but tragic."

Complete freedom, but still a Prisoner
Keeps exfoliating, but still a Soul

The Eclipse Diaries

### Bloodless Eyes ###

The sea keeps sinking somewhere.
I wake up- night or day- its the same thing to me. I wake up with the perfect pain in my belly, my shoulders and the rough edges of my skin. I dont let it linger for long. I play in my mind a song that I heard some ages back.... I try to set the memory in sync with my heart beat.. but I am not able to do so. Something is lost, somewhere. I am trying to understand what I have lost. Only then I can attempt a kick at retrieving it back.

They had taught me to be mentally tough and prepared with the events, conditions, everything. Did they miss out to tell me something?

My eye sight is fine. After all this time in darkness, I thought may be my eye sockets are empty- they must have taken my eyes off. But I could see a mild flickering of a bulb from afar. I almost started moving towards it... when it struck me that my cell was a closed tube. I can barely move, I can barely breathe. But I can live.

A tube like cell
Time.. well... it is flowing.
PoW # 84190310

Extensions

Tangle versus Chaos
Dignity versus Ostracism

And so these wires must hang over your head
Blonde
Red
Copper
Multi-colored Streaks
Trying to hide a head of White
Or may be trying to hide nothing at all
Its only a vaccum that needs cover

Friedrich Nietzsche

October 15, 1844 - August 25, 1900
Existentialism, Psychoanalysis, Atheism

"You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star"

"Only sick music makes money today"

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity"

"God is dead "

"Out of life's school of war: What does not destroy me, makes me stronger"

"Not by wrath does one kill, but by laughter"

"Is man merely a mistake of God's? Or God merely a mistake of man's?"

"Plato is boring."

SHARED FILES -

Thus Spake Zarathustra

Beyond Good and Evil

The Antichrist

The Case of Wagner or A Musician's Problem

Twilights of the Idol [Downloadable Version]

Blue-berries

In the Sweetness of Memory
In the Re-defined Infinity
In the Bewitching Dollops of Madness
In the Silvers at Three Oh Seven AM
In the Blacks and Black-outs
In the Colors of the Rain, that bowed
Seeds promised me Trysts of Seasons


And I
Swam the Oceans of Night
The goal of an equally darker Horizon Stares
Waiting to Tease the Twists and Sleight of Hand
Of a Humorous god
The Madness becomes the Ink of the Soul
To bring you the Dusks and Dawns of an Infinite Universe

Dawning the Dusk

Pieces of glass waxed over a Gray Wall
Or the Galaxies facing a twinkling shortfall
I am charged but for One Possession

They can smile and sing a beautiful Lie,
Sprinkle some stardust in your eye
I am called to undo those Silverspot Strawberries

The Voodoo is charmed by your side
Lucky is the Sun with whom you rise
But I stay awake like a Pawn's Collateral

Dillemma

A Morbid Soul lurking in the Sleepy land
It beckons to fold me in the corners of the night
I lay awake, watch the changing colors of the Sand
Like a magician's prestige Blind in Sight

I know not if the table can turn and destiny rebound
The flame of life keeps stealing a glance
Drink from the flame, where the Thrist was first found
I Enter the Gloom that I deserve, I celebrate and dance

Quest of a frozen dream keeps me awake
The stealth of life Lost by a mankind
Stolen by chance, there is a risk I need to take
I hold the cup that my lips find

Scintillating blindness too old for my Eye
You give up looking for Me, while I refuse to cry

Stone

Do you know your song
Do you know your moves
Did you watch your step
Did you burn the discotheque

I don’t even watch as you leave
I don’t long even as you linger

Do you make the first move
Do you cut your cake and eat it too
Did you know where to touch
Did you know when to surrender

I don’t even watch as you leave
I don’t long even as you linger

Do you control your chemistry
Do you know your history
Did you make her cry for freedom
Did you stab her while looking in her eyes

I don’t even watch as you leave
I don’t long even as you linger

Do you know the taste of her tears
Do you know the hero of her fears
Did you leave your teeth marks
Did you cause the pain right enough to be just sweet

I don’t even watch as you leave
I don’t long even as you linger

Oscar

Actors, these
Smiling faces I see
Stealing a glance at me
And I smile indulgingly
Encouragingly...
It is a smile, after all

I know naught
If they go back to their wives and women
And shout and smoke and get drunk
I know naught
If they clean the dirt out of their nails by a toothpick
If they wipe their brow
with their two buck ironed, stuffed white branded shirt
I know naught
If they look at a girl and smear her
in the holiness of their heads
I know naught
If they yell at their mothers for having spent too much, forgotten too much, lived too much

But they sure deserve Oscars
For their poker fac-ing

I know naught
If they stole a glance out of nothingness and tortured their table
I know naught
If they bothered about their aging shoes, thinning hair, slipping time

Drip by drip
They never had a will to measure

I know naught
If they undressed me
with their smiling gentlemanly eyes
I know naught
If they displayed their wares through the books they read, women they slept with, and the hotels they stayed in

I know this
I am happy
With their faces, poker faces

Switch Off the Lights
Hand them the Oscar
And send them back home

The Eclipse Diaries

###A Forefront Cry### It is boring here. At moments I am seized with a killing boredom and at times, I am excited to the core - in anticipation of a well digged fight with the enemy. The invisible enemy. May be I am pitied against time. Time is our enemy, isn't it? It is also supposed to be god, then... the immaculate healer... and what not. And for me this time, time is the enemy. If more time shall pass... my edges shall be chipped off. Like a nail being stripped of it's sharpness. Like a dew being over burdened with every passing moment of the maturing dawn. I am sitting here, in the chunk of the wall. There is a water dripping nearby. The liquid makes it cold at nights. My skin has become sensitive to these changes. I sometimes wish that this skin peels off. The flesh is better to manage. With the skin growing in, there is always a hope attached. But when everything strips down, there is nothing. A room for hope that is quantified as naught. I want the flesh to ooze out blood so that I lose the realm of time, even.

Seated in a Wall

Time... well.. it's passing by

POW # 84190310

The Eclipse Diaries

###First Blood###

They say there are Signs.In the midst of any difficulty, ye shall always look for signs and then you'll be rescued. I always wanted to know.. who would come for rescue.. the Foo Fighters, angels, MI6.... or who... but I coud not ask and therefore I wasn't answered. The place where I am right now, offers no solace >> answers are a deal too great to expect >> either. In this darkness I can not see any sign.

I have been hearing a few loud voices when I have been awake and for the rest of the time, I can hear a deafening single continous beep. If I am alive, then there must be oxygen here. After the rib crack, I can feel something engraved over my left wrist. Some numbers. It took me 124 seconds to make that out. 8 Digits. This is the only sign I got till now. This.... %^#(.... is like a sweet poison.The light is everywhere around me, and yet I find myself flooded with blinding darkness. May be it is oozing out of me. It should make sense. My hands have been tied for some time.... days, may be. Eyes were blind folded when I first felt someone touching me. The kick was painful too. And after that, I have been in a blackout. There is no sense of time, or space here. Einstein would have liked to know.

Time Unknown,

Place Unknown,

- PoW # 84190310

Scintilla

He loved Mathematics. He had been counting the heartbeats that tormented him. He had once been counting the Fallen Trees in the landscape of his untraceable Memory. Memory... Ah... Where there is life, there is memory- and both of them were undeniable and passionate options for him. He had chosen the former, and the latter was a curse that followed. Life had been an option, and he was passionate about it. The curses surrounded him, questioned and answered his Identity. He stopped wandering, and the angels feared that one day he might reach Home. His turbulent peace was so well practiced that even the Storms thought for a moment before entering his skull. But when they formed... they left inclement memories, yet again. Like a Flashback visited too well. And remembered, too. On this particular night he walked counting. The tumultuous rain tried hard to make him blink. There was an ink of Prussian Blue in the night, and he smiled. It was going to be one of those nights, again, he thought to himself. Premises were so easily available. He kept walking for a couple of heartbeats, till he finally looked up. It’s like one of those moments where you safely presume everything to be routine, and all the faculties in your mind's department of Logic, stand to quorum, but that one blink of a misnomer sense makes you disheveled. And since he was a sesquipedalian delight, he knew better. So he looked up without stopping. The rain was straight tonight- unlike other nights. The storm was calm, unlike other sights. The Night sky had changed, too- as if it was trying hard to erase a spot in his memory. It stood right above his head, calculating, with shades of the darkest green it had ever manufactured, and the most opaque velvet it had ever smoked. He looked up. The rain hit so hard on his eyes, that after a split second he felt his eye balls floating in the rain water that had accumulated in his eye-sockets. The hurt in his eyes did not prepare him for the blindsight that was about to hit him in a split second's time.
*
The silver rain danced with her. As if it did not succeed in driving her back home. Creatures like her had always been a liability - frolicking on the Earth, the Sky and everywhere in between. They weren't even faithfully straying. She danced, then, knowing fully well the nuisance of her existence and the essence of her being. The black satin had rushed to her, to save itself from being dry. She had laughed, and it wrapped around her in a hurry. From the distance where he watched her, he was not sure where the blackness of her body came from... She was naked except for the Night. The Night always played tricks on his mind. And now he looked at the woman with a curse and a chuckle- his logic told him he was safe. But still he stood there, telling himself, reassuring himself that there could be no substitute or imitation. He looked at her, unfazed for the moment, in a captious manner. The wet, dark green leaves kissed his feet, his cheeks and his arms. It was that touch that initiated the Music. He could now hear his heartbeat increased by a thousand-fold intensity. The definition of infinity as provided by Mathematics did not impress psychology, after all. His heartbeat became the Thunder. He slowly noticed the symmetry of the woman's feet and the flashes of lightening let him a glimpse of her soul. If one could see Trance in a perfect symphony of asymmetry- it was him. His eye lids became heavy, his eye balls floated with the ecstasy dissolving in. He felt his heartbeat struggling to make a beat, out of the sound. He felt his feet fastened to the Earth. He felt the Storm trying to touch his soul. His layers were stripped, one by one... Until nothing remained except for his Soul. He was breathing the Sky. The lightening summoned him to the silvering crimson that flowed incessantly from her eyes, and that which led him into the Space and the Sphere of a captivating Freedom. His logic embraced madness and he felt his soul trapped in that moment. He could go back and rewind the entire chain of dews, and yet he could not break the Freedom. The Madness of her movements, the wetness of the moment invited him to a Universe - they had both seen each other then. He wanted to take his eyes off from that realm, to sit back and see her and himself caught in that forbidden moment and yet, he would not do so. He simply would not leave. The woman danced, holding his soul, challenging him to look elsewhere, to transcend in a light that always won over darkness. The Night challenged him to come undone, to lay still in that whirlwind of wonder, to dip into the Black, into the Silver. The Crimsoned lightening in her eyes teased him to put everything at stake. The Insanity lay beckoning. The paroxysm took his death.

The Undue Homage

And won’t the Sky fly over to the Sea

If the Thunder forsakes the Twilight?

Is there a better place for a Gypsy to be

Or shall he traverse with a Distanced Sight?