Obsession : the fields of Asphodel.

Random flakes and flashes of your brain child

BONDAGE

A puzzle meddling with your sleep.

You give it up; sleep, not the puzzle.

Bound, dissected and resurrected from the flashes.

Sound glitches, corrected.

Addiction, Dreams, and Fear.

DOMINANCE

Her birth, light after your darkest night.

Her growth into a spoilt brat.

Her eventual death, at your knock.

Resurrecting Nightmares.

A gruesome judge ; YOU.

And with that, the fall of Olympus.

Tables turn: SUBMISSION

The game, your master.

Sound glitches, corrected ? apparently not.

In passion, you're lost. In Ecstasy, you’re dead.

Family, Friends, Mortals, Gone.

Desperate for her love, Ignorant to the elements.

Fall at the first whip, the following clawing at your remnants.

Back to square one…

With Love, yours MASOCHIST

Flip the coin, DEATH or GLORY ?

Death : you'll be sparing the puny mortals mere gossip.

Anywhere in between, you're as good as worthless.

Obsession : the fields of Asphodel.

I've forgotten how to cry

There is this dull hollow, within.

A soldier in need of war.

She can resolve only within,

For she’s a fool at war.

Two spaces, two very different spaces.

Wave over wave, she’s struck.

POW at last, like any other longing death.

She isn’t getting weak, thus scared.

Dormant collateral damage.

Rage. Floods. Ambush.

I’ve forgotten how to cry.

That Kid

There was a kid, probably 3-4 years old. He'd come with his mother. I couldn't help but notice him. He was hyped up, full of energy and wanted to play.

He was fair, cute, and his mother had to keep an eye on him as he cruised the vicinity.

We were at church and his mother found it a bit awkward doing so, yet instincts took over and her eyes were fixed over him.

Fortunately for her, he'd geared down, just for the moment though. It was the time of ceremony, where we were to kneel down. Everyone did, so did the mother.

The kid had grown tired of sitting idle. He noticed this gesture by the people in the gathering. One would probably assume he did the same too, despite which, he visualized a rather interesting scenario.

He went behind his mother who was kneeling down in prayer, and sat over her legs. I wonder what the thoughts through her mind were then, probably nothing, probably she was used to his playfulness, yet again, just curious.

He apparently didn't find the game amusing enough. He got up, held his mother by her shoulder, stepped over her legs, with rather feeble balance, almost slipped off once, but his mother, held him up. Once he was up and relatively stable and balanced, he looked around, satisfied at his feat, cherished the elevation for a brief time and his mother helped him down.

I've emphasised the scale a bit, feel free to paint the scenario in your head with a lot of innocence and cuteness.

Innocence and cuteness : something the world had stolen from us long long ago.

Or was it a foolish sacrifice?….

St. Joseph's Cathedral.
Chengalpet, Tamil Nadu.
India.

Feb 28, 2016.

The actor

Why do we talk to mirrors in the dark hallway?

Why do we smile at them?

Is it because they can keep a secret?

Is it because you’re depraved for the service they offer?

Or Is it because they’re enslaved to the same?

The radiant candour spirit walks free,

The defiant mimic stalks, wreaking a killing spree.

We haven't lost those ancestral traits.

The hunts through those ancestral days.

With the consolatory echo that ran across framing kin,

Funny that you haven’t despised yourself as of now.

Alas!

Cheaters and liars make of the world as brethren in the same.

The mimic is weak, a feeble magician.

An unrefined statistician.

Unwary of the shrapnel left behind.

A treasury of floo, with a name inscribed.

And soon your game described.

BEWARE.

A Wave of Gratitude at

the Candour Spirit across the country.

The game I lost

It was something we did together

We didn't work hard, yet a bout together.

We searched, built, and failed.

We searched, built, and goal.       

It was something he was proud of.

Unlike me, he had done it for me.

He guided and learnt with Me.

The face I hadn't seen.

Moments to cherish throughout my life.

The supplement by constraint.

Constraint, a funny word indeed.

Constraint with anonymous love indeed.

Alas! I lost.

I'm sad, not because i I lost…