Amusing to most cynics, these tragic tales of love.
Questioning his mercy, the one who watches from above.

Diabolical confrontation, an army so strong.
Sleepless nights withered, pondering what went wrong.

Meek perception of a fickle minded clan.
Denouncing an ambitious child, an insubordinate man.

An intense adoration, eloquence of being crazed.
Contested against vehemently, all hell aggresively raised.

Not unrequited, not unfair, a beautiful symphony meticulously shared.
Infatuation so strong, hope for lives to be paired.

Cacophony of society, this petrified state.
Throngs of loathing, a cumbersome hate.

Agitating separation, an indignant ploy.
Hearts shattered, like a worthless toy.

These bonds of unfair blood, creators of an avenging soul.
Guaranteed devastation, eager to come out of its hole.

Upset the master plan, cause his own disease.
Let there be genocide, In god's decrees he did not believe.

Buried alive, weight of there mutual debt.  
Grieving loss, Giving up on everything left.

Beaten, he screams in mortal vanquish.
His very soul on fire.
He forsakes them all, allows his blood to douse there funeral pyre.

A hot summer day, lush green grass turning into hay.
A sickly child of nine, in a park carpeted with pine.
A little after six, the other kids gone to eat meals their mother's fixed.

He had no worries though, his mother was always home late,
She was probably at a bar or on a date.
A slight breeze blew with warmth that soothed his skin.
While his mother remained half drunk on tonic and gin.

Realization struck, playing alone felt juvenile.
He started towards home, a perpetual mile.

As he treads down the curb, his wariness escalates unperturbed.  
For at home, what he is made to witness, gets him feeling constricted.
He feels bound by a chain.

Formidable lovers or accountable customers.
It made no difference,  for after they were laid, they treated his mother like a maid.
Which to him was the epitome of lame.

As he was walking down the street, he heard the soft thud of feet.
Curious, he turns around.
As he was gawking, he saw an old man walking.
Towards him, the man was bound.

Without a trace of infidelity or a hint at destructivity, the old approached the child.
In light of the age on his face, the old man's perspicacity seemed mild.

A long coat on his back and a cap of grey hair on his head, this is what the old man said.
" My dear son, lets have fun, lets go to my house and play.
It'll be really merry, we'll drink some hot sherry and I'll give you enough candy to last more than a day"

The boy measured this pretension, reasoned with apprehension the thoughts of his mother at bay.

He reasoned she won't care, or if she did she won't dare for her lovers don't give her much say.

So he followed the old man, content to have a friend to play with.
Honestly though, it was the candy that his motives stayed with.

They walked along till they were deep in an unfamiliar part of town.
They come upon a dingy little house, which he could have sworn was raided by a hound.

"Please leave your shoes out the door,
Or else you might soil the floor"
Said the old man without a hint of zeal.
The boy pulled of his shoes,
Then the socks came loose.
The candy holding its enchanting appeal.

As the boy walked in straight,
He saw the old man slide the lock into place and smile.
The boy shuddered, his feet cold on the linoleum tile.
The old man sighed, "Common my son, lets have some fun, I'm your neighbourhood friendly *******. "

I remember crying, hating it, crying none the less.
As snot rolled down my nose, you hugged me and time stood still.

There was complete darkness, There was luminous light.
There was agonising horror, There was never ending delight.

In that one moment, I lost the will to fight.
In that one moment, when you told me it was alright.

It was like relief and ecstasy,
A really strong high.
It was like humour and charm,
Beyond me why I didn't feel shy.

This was one of the many times you forgave me.
One of the many times I found myself immeasurably lucky.

I'm hard to put up with, I've caused you so much pain.
I've caused you enough trouble, I've been a audacious bane.
I've fought with you, I've screamed at you.
I've spewed hate with so much zeal.
I beg for everything I've done, I beg it would heal.

Why, why do you forgive everything I do.
What have I done to have you?

Why do you do everything you do for me?
Why do you pray that I be as good as any?

What have I done to get such immortal  affection?
When all I've been willing to give is a temper and destruction.

I thank you mom. I thank you today.
Children don't understand, do they?
I understand now, I understand with constant clarity.
You are an angel, the explanation satisfies my sanity.

You have shaped my life, my character, oh its a very long list.
I can't thank you enough, it would make a very boring gist.
You've left a part of yourself in me. You've bodied my soul.
You've taught me to fight, no matter how meek the goal.
You've made the world a better place, you're my refuge from hate.
I don't believe you are anything, but ofcourse heaven's gate.

I do not wish to repay you for I deem that implausible.
I owe you too much, mom.
I'm sorry I was so horrible.

I wish, I wish from every crevice in my heart.
To make you proud, a tribute for giving me a good start.
I wish, I wish from every crevice in my heart.
That you look back to the day you held me for the first time, a tender child in tired arms.
And feel content. Feel content. Feel content.

Hey, hey you.
Yeah, you kid.
Want some crack?
Why not? You don't do drugs?
Think you're too cool? Too rugged?
Let me tell you kid, drugs are devine.
Even better than christmas eve, vintage wine.

Smoke some ***, you wouldn't notice if you were shot.
Drink some bourbon, whiskey, a few shots of *****.
The poison is so good, you'd ask the bartender to top ya.
Sniff some coke, ****** you must inject.
**** gets you so trippy, you cannot reject.
Pop some acid, crush some ****.
You'll be immortal, there will be no death.
Sniff some glue, Inhale some petrol.
You won't be addicted. Everything's under control.

The rush, the high.
It'll be amazing, it'll help you bare life, son.
The speed, the hush.
It'll make you feel sly, son.

The kid, innocent of puberty said,
But sir, that's what accomplishing my dreams, feels like.

She lay awake for the better part of an hour.
The light streaming through half drawn blinds.
She did not cry, because there was nothing to cry about.
She did not smile, for she felt no joy.

Maybe it was talent, or maybe it was just that she'd been doing this alot lately.

When she thought about nothing and everything,
Simultaneously first, then at the same time.
So sporadic her thoughts became,
The idea of insanity was ingrained.

She had a father, a mother and a lover who cared.
She did not understand the reason of her despair.

She reminisces of old days, days face with enthusiasm and vigour.
She wonders what changed, what makes her want to pull a trigger.


She thinks about what's wrong and how it came to be so.
The questions have always been easy.
If only, the answers were so nice to her.

There is no sorrow to feel, no happiness to be glad.
There is only emptiness and desolation.
There is only detachment and isolation.

Its funny. Its downright hilarious.
People with tough lives achieve greatness.
While the mediocre lives stay bare and dead.
She lay there for the better part of an hour.
Dreading what lay ahead.

There is oblivion. There is space.
There is futility. There is ubiquity.
There is pride. There is defeat.
There is emptiness. There is resentment.
There is darkness. There is rage.

The cacophony drowns all exaggeration.
It leaves no pity, offers no fight.

There is fury, it is black.
There is fury, it does not ****.
There is fury, it showers no wrath.
It rots, it stays, it rots some more.

There is hope. Hope is dying.
It bleeds away, a crimson trail.
The fury is poison, it will prevail.

Morbid humour, judicious hate.
Delightful anguish, dusty slate.
The mirror lets me walk away.