Confessions of a frustated mind Saturday, April 21, 2007 |
i have a threshhold, i have a fucking threshold. i might burst. i might do a "rang de basanti"
Labels: Death, Sentiments, WTF
mea culpa Thursday, August 03, 2006 |
aajkal i m listening to a lot of Children of Bodom. Alexi, you are my hero.
this might sound destructive.
holding the scythe up and high,
a lake of blood he passes by,
smashing a bunch of maggots under his feet,
he loves the way they die.
he growls,
she cires
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
the dark woods he stroll into,
a foggy castle, he looks forward to,
as lightening struck the cellar,
doomed is the shelter, he seeks upto.
he growls,
she cires
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
waiting for the death to take his pride,
in a muddy damned graveyard they slide,
to wolf on land and ravens in air,
he offers the flesh of his virgin bride.
he growls,
she cires
mea culpa
mea culpa
mea culpa
Labels: Death, Poetry, Yaaaaayyyyyyyyyy
untitled Friday, October 14, 2005 |
she walked by road, with heart full of fears,
her mind was numb, eyes full of tears.
for all the things to him,she ever said,
in hope, that these memory will never fade.
her lonely shadow on beach, she stare,
was once used to be a dancing pair,
the rocks, they sat, for hours, for days
are now getting tanned, by scarlet sun rays.
the wrinkles on the bedspread of night before,
and the shower, which never stopped to pour,
besides her cot lies, his white shirt,
still reminds her of that innocert flirt.
the half ate sandwich, is still on table,
kept besides, an uncorked black label.
the lilies he brought,in a white china vase,
are pale in memories of he who was.
now he is bound, as photo in her diary,
but a ghost that frequenly haunt her memory.
more she tries to forget the dead,
she knows,its a long and lonely road ahead.
she wish, his presence still lingers there,
a dream against His will, she had dare,
a shot and the floor turned red,
here goes lass, to meet her lad.
Veronica decides to die... Friday, October 15, 2004 |
Walking down the aisle,
He can see her falling tears.
Not saline,but crimson,
Past her eyes and ears.
Fatigued of life,jolted by
A phantom wedding ring,
Satyr's challange,
Get in the ring..
He wants to live...
He plans to live...
He dopes to live...
She hopes to live...
They end up in a tie..
and veronica decides to die....