Befringe my hatred

From the endless Chasms in my head

Spills out the perpetual grief

Of letting a thousand screams go unheard

For the indigent never makes it to the ear

And the bourgeoisie has too much to say.

Gazing at the perfection of this tyranny

Watching cowardice flourish

I want to raise my voice

And overthrow the contemptible

For time is all I have.

Sitting astride this one legged chair

Pondering has its perils

For surrounded by feigners am I

And the only one left to adorn

Is the same old condemned ME.

Our own perdition

We do not need to 'go to' hell, for it's right here. We live in a place where silent gods stand guard to protect themselves! How ridiculous would it be to have your offspring breathe in a country where men hit their women, rape, murder & then dump them like garbage, burn someone's daughter down for dowry (with the help of another woman, most of the times)....... BUT PREACH A COW!

Is hell all about famine, destitution, poverty, terrorism? Actually, we all have different definitions of hell. A person living in srinagar would tell you he's seen hell whistling past his body and piercing through another. But is that hell? Who's the one who shot that piece of metal? He's just another human who's sister was kidnapped in front of his own eyes by army jawans, probably his brother was shot down, or maybe his entire family was wiped off, or could be that he was used as a tool by another entity because the government of this country didn't use him as a tool!

We're living through a self-inflicted injury. We've created this hell. How can anyone 'go to' hell?

The view from the moon...

Unredeemed she walks away

With dew laden eyes

Drenched in blood is her soul

Her flesh bears the scars of life

Soiled is her white godly gown

For the earth is audacious

Defying the clouds of misery

The countless wounds inflicted

Beyond the veil of the visible

Lies her slender self

With marks of crime and punishment

And tears of guilt seeping through

Like waking up from an eternal slumber

Entering the rusted gates of the day

Of immortality enthroned with the crown in her hands

Far away from chaos into the perpetual depths of serenity

She lies down on a bed of lilacs that shackle her beautiful feet

Whilst the last strand of life stands guard.

For she has survived it all, the only one

The ocean jumps in joy to wash off the insignificant

Betrayal is no longer a thorn

For the walls of treachery have crumbled

And the hands of hope grieve no more

For they hold the most priceless possession.

The comforts of retribution

It's been ages since we've felt something...anything! We have become what we feared the most but we're still scared, because what we feared the most has risen to a level which we fear the most now! We all know that this is not the point where we've decided to stop. We'll go further and hence, farther in our delusions of greatness.

The question here is, WHAT do we fear the most? Our infantile feelings of personal omnipotence are helpful enough to search for the answer(s) to the above question. We fear our own breed. A farce called god was created to pacify those who never wanted to accept the truth about their fellow humans.

Who created this farce? 'The One'...for he knew, there's a point some people won't go beyond. So he limited their universe to a few holy verses and books. He then sat back and enjoyed them kill each other in the name of his gift to them.

People call me blasphemous. And who are they?

hymns for the mistress of disharmony

They talk about nihilism
How can it be true?
when the ones who talk about it
belong to my womb

A thousand years of oppression
and still an eternal life to go
Are they grateful to me
my impeccable creations?

The last of the extraneous lives
are down on their knees
for my will to forgive them
is still clandestine

You're just another famished infant
with so many tears to cry
but the rot on my chest
is just a drop more than yours.

Telepathic with the deceased...

How dark art thee!

I recommend to all the 'Exit' music from Xasthur's album - Telepathic with the deceased. Close your eyes and lose yourself to the synth for 2 minutes and 33 seconds. You shall see your darkest side in the brightest of all rooms. Turn off the lights if you wish to and atone with your lonely soul. One of the most powerful and overwhelming tunes I've ever listened to.

So many of us are not at peace with who we are and who everyone else wants us to be. Inside, our demons laugh for they flourish in our self-pity infested abyss.

Nothingness, my promise...

The voids created by possessions cannot be comprehended till you lose them and don't feel like having them back. A self inflicted misery is an easy way out of the mundane promises made to yourself, for then, you have something else to worry about.

The tyrant inside your skull is your gateway to the realms of victory and treachery. Probably that's why, the heavens decided to give you a heart so that everytime you're about to fall into a ditch, you can step back and fall into another one.

Empty is what I'm not, but filled is what I don't want you to be.

A wonderful quote....

"And what is an authentic madman? It is a man who preferred to become mad, in the socially accepted sense of the word, rather than forfeit a certain superior idea of human honor. So society has strangled, in its asylums, all those it wanted to get rid of or protect itself from, because they refused to become its accomplices in certain great nastinesses. For a madman is also a man whom society did not want to hear and whom it wanted to prevent from uttering certain intolerable truths."