Tag Archives: hurt

Diseased

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A vessel
Ruptured
Bursting
Flow, flow, flowing
Red clots
Blue brown lands;
Purple blotches
Tireless
Restless
Toss, toss, turning
Unexplained
Perplexed
Rootless
Throbbing clusters
Here, there, everywhere
Tumor, cancer, hemorrhaging.

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Return

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You said you’d love me
Forever and more
Yet now I am waiting
At the door

Every sound, every rustle
Beckons your name
But you are busy
Playing a dirty game

The skies are grey
and I am blue
The stakes are high
You have no clue

A storm is coming
I feel it here
West wind of separation
is what I fear

You must wake up
From the oblivious dream
Of your inhibitions and
of your insecurities

This is far beyond
a child’s play
Only if we’re together
Will we be okay

At Bay

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I know not what will be
When I meet with thee
Maybe a splendid union
or a catastrophe

I wish it could be different
More pure, more innocent,
Free from ignoble pursuits
But so it cannot be

The chain of desire holds
Selfish yearnings bold
Skipping stones on our own
Weighed down by gravity

The dream of perfection
Reduced to an illusion
Fickle, trivial, meager
Such is our reality

We wrote our story
by merging rivers in a sea
When you kept me at bay
We became you and me

Hiatus

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Go, walk away
With your coward’s gait
Trespassing shamelessly
No intention to stay

How dare thee
Point fingers, blame me
Abandon me like I
Was your property?

Go, walk more miles
Wasteland; piles on piles
Yet you think it is I
The one who beguiles?

Nay traitor, ponder again
This love is a sin
One of many crimes
Where I have given in

Go find another bait
Somone who can equate
What I have given you
Until then, I shall wait.

Jester’s Tears

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There was a sickening ball lurching and churning in the pit of her stomach. She nervously twitched and compulsively swallowed spit. Nothing helped in diverting her attention from the dreadful doom that hovered at the back of her mind. She was alone.

This lonely girl pitied herself as she had no alternative. Whether she was in her office or her bedroom, inside or outside, when she ate, drank, shit, pissed, laughed, screamed, or sobbed, the echoes just bounced off the walls and mocked the emptiness.

If this silly girl accepted this as her life and tried to comprehend how she could possibly make it better, she was guilty. If she’d stay stuck in the moment and wait for a miracle to happen, she was guilty. If she tried to get her act together and dared to be content, she was guilty. If she led a life at her own pace in her own direction, she was guilty. If she obeyed others, she was guilty. If she was optimistic, she was guilty. If she was pessimistic, she was guilty. Not only was she lonely, but she was guiltily alone.

This foolish girl believed that a person has the ability to makes others happy. Even if she knew she couldn’t please everyone, she didn’t want to hurt or cause displeasure to someone because of herself. She tried so hard to be as harmless as she could, sometimes at the cost of her ego, ever since she realized that ego was a self construed idea that submitted only to one’s own selfish desires.

This idiotic girl surrounded herself with drawn faces and painted colors; a drawn illusion of belonging. Little did she know that every man is for himself and no one belongs to the other. I guess she was afraid of the daunting reality of her loneliness and desperately compensated for it. Because even if it was for a spare moment, she wanted to believe that everything was alright and life didn’t have to be a platter of shit handed to her by fate.

This impudent girl juggled between her own happiness and the desire to see others happy, at least with her. She liked to make people smile and laugh. What a farce! As soon as the show was over, everyone left their seats and went their way. She was left alone with her jester’s tears in the middle of a Shakespearean stage.

Red Handed

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An oppressive mourning day
Reveals an even darker night
Their barely worn clothes
Change from colors to white
The ones who share their blood
Are now submerged in plight
Lineages’ leak lost love
Humanity fading in this fight

We sent flowers off to bloom
They were withered in return
How can you be so idle
Witnessing the angels burn?
Masters on gilded thrones!
Is it not of your concern?
Ah yes, brutal atrocities
You would dare not discern

Pernicious minds bathed
In fatally noxious ideologies
Descending brilliance habitual
Of deadly destructive ease
Ecstatically rolling in blood
And skinning as a strip tease
As if the whore’s lust is
Immortal and to never cease

Oh broken friends and foes!
Are our cries even heard?
Or are we categorized amongst
The absolutely absurd
After all that happened
Is this what we deserved?
Our words and our sighs
Considered heaps of turd

Listen, O doomed nation!
The message loud and clear
Tomorrow it shall be us
Lying cold right here
Or maybe our beloveds
Shall tonight disappear
Feel it crawl under your skin?
Humanity being replaced by fear

© Rosh Von Amber 2014

NOTE: I wrote this poem at the breakfast table this morning. This my catharsis regarding the Taliban attack on a school in Peshawar, Pakistan killing 131 children. I have nothing more to say.bloody_hands_by_itsmylifeee-d4o2p91

Departing

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The thoughts that I would dwell over all night,
Were nothing but reruns of that fight.
What pleasure did we seek? What delight?
To see the other crumble before our sight.

I tossed and you turned beyond our high forts,
Neither you, nor I dared to put in any effort.
In a world such we have only ourselves to support,
So we both continued to let our love distort.

I still wonder how we got here; me, standing at the door
You look at me and there’s nothing in your eyes anymore
Is this what we walked down this wondrous path for?
For Earth and Water to meet, but just at the shore?

For the high tide is now love as the waves retreat
I look at the door and you look at my feet
It is final, it is done. We have accepted defeat.
We were two parallel lines, never meant to meet

© Rosh Von Amber 2014