Tag Archives: hell

In time, heaven’s light crashes in on earth’s darkness. //symbolic writing//

The Earth seen from Apollo 17.

The Earth seen from Apollo 17. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Two ships flying in space a-tango
Earth and Heaven kingdom-ships
The Heaven ship could fly faster
But it kept close to the Earth ship

Often it would send power sparks
To give the Earth kingdom-ship a lift
Or Earth ship would have fared worse
The crew is the worst a ship could wish for

For long the two ships have been on parallel courses
Heaven’s Captain keeping a close watch
Because He has a stake in the other ship
For Earth carries unwilling captives of war

Left to the gods of the earth they’d run it aground
They resist heaven’s help even firing at it
They’d sooner crash earth than see the slaves free
Sadistic gods set against Heaven’s Captain

The Captain knew they’d soon hit the Hell Hole
But He would sooner crash his ship into earth
To get it off that self-destructive course
And He’d capture earth ship

He’d overthrow the lords of the earth ship
Free the slaves and set things straight
He’d force peace to reign aboard that ship
But the timing has to be right!

Life and The Writer (sequel to Death and The Writer)

The Writer

“Of the few unpleasant species like myself
Even fewer love a happy ending.
But again there are few who won’t care about rules of dark writings
Any more than they’d care about a broken toothpick!”
These thoughts run through the mind of the writer,
As he heads back from the shrink’s cave.
His hair is well combed and like shiny metal.
His eyes glow with eerie warmth and calmness.
An enchanted smile adorns his lips and cleanly shoven chin.
One gently swaying arm holds a baby bird.
There was something beautifully divine about the bird
Even the air smelt divine, almost spiritual
The other arm with shaky fingers holds a white-inked pen.

The victim

The full picture of emptiness
Sitting between calmness and uncertainty,
His throat bears the aftertaste of good food,
Which though sits uneasily in his tommy
In view of his maltreatment and enslavement,
The hole (where the padlock was) remains –
An unforgettable lesson on his lips
As he speaks every day.
His wrists bear marks from the cuffs.
His broken legs are yet unhealed.
His mind is unsure of what to expect
From the writer upon return.

The conversation

Writer(W): Hello friend! How have you fared?
Victim(V): Friend? Hehehehe.
W: As you could guess, I was only being sarcastic calling you friend. Not a chance!
V: As well! Anyway, I have resigned myself to this fate. I know how dying feels. I am well used to it by now. This is your fifth return from your shrink, and I have not fared any better. I have felt my body die, and horror as I felt it come alive again back to your chains. I have felt you drain my hope as you would treat me kindly before you go see your shrink, only to deal worse with me on returning. I have felt my soul die. The corruption of these chains have drained my hope, my light, and what sense of sanity I had left. What more? Oh! You will release me now -the new monster you have created -knowing that I am not the same again? I can’t successfully live a normal life -my sense of humanity, morality and dignity twisted by your darkness.
W: Hahahahaha!!!! Halt your speech there! See who is talking like a philosopher now.
I am wrapping all this up now

Conclusion

And as the victim watches
With the uneasy calmness of one used to pain and suffering,
The writer takes the pen
And in a decisive move
Sticks it in the delicate heart of the heavenly dove.
Frank red blood gushes out.
As the blood flowed,
Something unnatural was happening –
Something damningly darker than any could have imagined,
Or something worthy of engaging the writer’s darkness.
The victim saw the writer’s countenance change.
The final deed has been done!
The writer’s insanity forever satisfied,
He then writes a new story in red.
The victim was set free
From the chains of darkness
By the shedding of another’s blood.
Something snapped in the writer’s dark mind
With his bold move on the dove’s life.
The victim’s story changed
And the writer’s madness was satisfied.
The victim was still in shock
As he was let out of hell.
He looked forward with hope
Into the life ahead of him,
Hoping and praying
He wouldn’t be a monster unleashed –
A likeness of the demon he just left behind in hell.
(Who was still a bit surprised
Because it wasn’t quite how he had planned the happy ending.)

At least, he wasn’t totally dead like the writer.
He could still HOPE and PRAY like a normal human
Who believed in the power of the unseen.

Insane Spurts of a Sober Mind: Life’s Seasons

Winter forest

SIGHTS OF THE SEASON  /  Autumn of Our Lives  ...

Let us dance to the spring
It is spewing wine for us this year
But we get so drunk
With the goodness of spring
We forget the harsh winds of reality
Seasons come and go
But I am none the better for it

This winter past
I was found in the jungle
Caught in shivers of emotions
Till I let them all freeze
It was all I could do
As I lay lifeless-frozen
E-motionless

Before then was the autumn
Which appealed to some sobriety and reality
As I saw leaves dead and dropping
Death blowing in the autumn breeze
Please pray for their kind souls departed
Life is a 50 metre dash
Very few of us have lanes long as 80

And there was, and shall be, summer
A fickle mimicry of a hellish existence
Oh please cry for winter again
Let the cold arms comfort you
For if you shivered in the cold
Resonated with spring’s life and slowed with autumn
Then you are not made of a material
Tough enough to stand the heat of summer!

P.S.: lest you see me as cynical,
Cheer up!
Seasons are only for “a short season”
Whilst on earth
The last autumn will come soon
Then you shall rest and be done.
With the seasons ON EARTH!
(I guess I am cynical!!!)