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Sidharth Suraj Dec 2020
Living this conflicting life of regret and reality
living this conflicting life of confrontations and morality,
treading on this weak link of trust and animosity.
Living in this fear that what if those memories ever return,
or if am I even human enough to live with them.

Past days of bloodshed and lead bullets,
past life of hate and dead merits,
these ghosts from my past seem to be chained in me,
they almost seem to breathe with me.
Not knowing anymore, would I survive this chaos,
not knowing anymore, am I willing to escape this pathos,
not wanting to accept If the past was indeed the real me.
or am I still stuck in this labyrinth carved in me?

Everyday battling this conflict,
everyday holding on to the leash,
I live with this emotional rust and creeping insanity.
Waiting for my tryst with death,
Aching for my ending days of rest,
I tend to wander afar in my head,
and again end up in my soul instead.
If life was somewhat different at this frame of time,
Then what new flavors of suffering would I have encountered.
Or what new warmth of smiles I would have seen.
PTSD is a real deep wound not just a scar of war.
Inspired by the movie The Hurt Locker.
Sidharth Suraj Dec 2020
Living this conflicting life of regret and reality
living this conflicting life of confrontations and morality,
treading on this weak link of trust and animosity.
Living in this fear that what if those memories ever return,
or if I am even human enough to be breathing with them.
PTSD is a real problem but a lot of people, discard it stating it as scars of trauma, stop treating them like scars when they are deep wounds on their conscious.
Sidharth Suraj Dec 2020
To take from; to have taken away from
to catch; to be caught;
to conform; to make one conform,
We do nothing but repeat,
repeat these affirmatives and negatives.
We are fighting to keep ourselves from losing anything,
we are certain of benightedness in our futility.
A different take on Last letter
Sidharth Suraj Dec 2020
To take from; to have taken away from
to catch; to be caught;
to conform; to make one conform,
We do nothing but repeat,
repeat these affirmatives and negatives.
We are fighting to keep ourselves from losing anything
and yet our places and the people we love
are certain to pass away.
And we are certain to be forgotten.

To live in vain is to be unhappy,
It is our benightedness in futility.
but even though knowing,
someday all we have would vanish so would our conscious,
knowing someday we will be gone so would our benignancy.
I still seek life grotesquely,
in this hope that I would decipher the beauty in a beating heart.
And so I choose.
I keep choosing.
I keep being chosen.
Some saying life is an overrated phenomenon,
sadly I disagree with that,
life has its essence in both its vagueness and chaos,
life has its essence in both its reality and ethos.
This is my last letter to nature,
this is my last letter celebrating the futility of life.
Celebrate your life everyday, cause this moment counts.
Inspired by anime Tokyo Ghoul.
Sidharth Suraj Dec 2020
During combat to the death,
is maybe the only moment when you can gauge,
the true potential of the human drive.
Only at that moment, you realize
the ecstasy in warm dripping blood,
in feeling the last of a beating heart,
in granting the end to a soul in terror.

The two possibilities in question,
the drive to hunt and the need to survive,
both stand on the same pedestal of reality,
both value the same in the scale of nature.
but that scenario persists only,
until one realizes their true potential to play God.
It is at this moment of fear of mortality,
it is at this moment when one can see life leaving a vessel,
this moment makes the hunter realize,
the inability of God over Death.
Reading a lot of criminal psychology and papers on psychotic tendencies these days. In most of the cases without a clear motive, the subject reported to have felt gratified in taking a life. Elated to play God.
Sidharth Suraj Dec 2020
Sometimes when I gaze into a starry night,
I tend to compare it with that mesmerizing smile of yours.
But when you bless me with that smile of yours,
darling I tend to forget those million stars in the sky.
Inspired by Nizar Quabbani.
Short and sweet poetry.
  Dec 2020 Sidharth Suraj
Anne Sexton
Something
cold is in the air,
an aura of ice
and phlegm.
All day I've built
a lifetime and now
the sun sinks to
undo it.
The horizon bleeds
and ***** its thumb.
The little red thumb
goes out of sight.
And I wonder about
this lifetime with myself,
this dream I'm living.
I could eat the sky
like an apple
but I'd rather
ask the first star:
why am I here?
why do I live in this house?
who's responsible?
eh?
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