The calling of Calypso trapped many sailors to their hell-festered detainment. To the mortals living in serenity outside the borders of the siren’s realm, all the ecstasy and brilliance shining from have them received with a lover’s embrace? Perhaps these men are prisoners of madness?

With ignorant thoughts bred and assumptions made, the candle of hope of freedom for the helpless enthralled men were extinguished.

Calypso laughed in triumph, her dexterity unchallenged.

If I hadn't fallen in love, I wouldn't have seen the stars so within reach,
and yet I would've remained unscathed by the supernova.
If I hadn't fallen in love, I wouldn't have held the divine restoration of cycle,
and yet I would've been ignorant of the end.
If I hadn't fallen in love, I wouldn't have been acquainted with the exultation of sentiments,
and yet I would've prevailed the storm of loneliness.
If I hadn't fallen in love, I wouldn't have captured the cinematic magnificence of a wild and seismic vista,
and yet I would've stayed on the path.

For all I know and feel now is pain.

What once was,
no longer is.

Because the world was never meant to be unfolded. A sphere with horizontal illusions, ghost hands tugging the strings of its puppets. Cut the core, force it open, its life-being oozes out. Blood on your hands! The cosmos sing a siren’s song, narrating your imminent departure. Death has come knocking and you’ve reached the end of the road.
Hands reaching for the icy door ****, ignorant to your proposed actions of cowardice. A molecule of your cramped finger contacted the handle, transmittings bolts of Zeus’ mighty power through your veins, reaching the crown of your head, dropping explosions of trepidation.
The sand clock grows anorexic. Teeth chattering seizures, a panic attempt to shake off Fate’s shackles, bellowing prayers you could not initiate. Growth of perspiration a physical secretion of your anxieties, the beads forming constellations, symbolizing Death, cascaded, tracing the hollows of your cheeks, the contour of your face, the valleys of naviety, mocking the seconds sinking.
Grasp onto the latch. The future awaits you. The Three Winged Seraphs guiding their blade, stroking the String with your name, so deliciously yearning. Release my tensions.
A rebel against your demands, your hands animated to life- Come to life! rotates the mechanism, summoning the hinges to succumb.
The last grains in the sand clock streams down, descending a route of design. Envisioning a waterfall, so pristine, so innocent, so natural its intent.
The String relishes its fragility and vulnerability, purring against the caresses of the Blade. Like dead skin curling, the wings of the String spread. Expanding, preparing to take flight.
Three, two, one. The last revolutionary Will continues to fight a dying battle.
The mercenary lays his eyes upon Death.
Could Death ever look angelic? A familiar face combing through your mangled hair. From the time you were conceived into a stranger’s world, you were en route to Him. Spiting all human faith, He was the true messiah. A messiah cloaked in Lucifer’s shadow.
Innumerable anecdotes to be contrived, however has he once broken a promise? He was fair and just. Not a soul was mercilessly shut off from Him. Though He was shunned from His children, passed on from father to son through word of mouth, did he not offer paradise at the end?
Death opened his arms vowing Zion.
A matrimony.

I still remember the first day I saw you
Tucked in the embrace of mediocrity
Pulsating with colour, reverberating enigma
You were the manifestation of a fantastical wonder, a trip down an abyssal Zion
Enthralled, I swooned, rendered insensible
Solace you promised but royally robed with animosity
Like moth attracted to lighted objects, I mustered strength and toiled on
How am I to deduce you?
A wise lady should've warned me just as she did the great hero, 'Hardship does so soon age it's men'
My heart like wax, deteriorated from your scorching insolence
Sagacious men with a time bomb vault.
Knitted the world a beautiful creation from the fabrics of their life.
Why is every poem a puzzle?
Old men drowned in their pool of reflections and many years later, I am here trying to understand their words.

I have not indulged in any liquid vices yet I am enchanted into a drunken stupor.
I have not driven my bottom limbs 6 miles yet I am exhausted into endless days in bed.
I have not excused myself from privilleged meals yet I am starving, scouring around my
establishment for staples to satisfy my belly.

Two days locked in my bedroom and my skin has lost its colour, a white sidling pallor the
housekeeper.
I gape at the immaculate grey walls and soon their mouths emerged. Tales of fantastical
fancies lulled me into a ghostly realm in the state of my insensibility. My ivory marbled legs  
gradually stood rooted to the ground, lifeless logs longing for bustle. Stiff buttocks molded  
into the cheap cushions of a black swivel chair.

My head feels heavy and my eyes feels heavier.
Will you take me to solace?

If my bed was bigger would you have laid with me
Will you excuse the squeeze in the place of comfortability
Our bodies close, replace our blankets with the heat
flowing, mellifluously reverberating, from within

My heavy mind, spiralling in self abhor
Dawdles on a pillow, simpering with decay
Solace I discovered in your arms instead, taming the uproar
The bane of your predicament, your spirits sway

The twilight of distraught tickles the hairs on my arms
But now comes the noon of melancholia.
My Ivy legs cripples your limbs, the bruises I see- constellations
Contradictory you lament, the cries a synergy of appoggiatura

A long time ago, you asked for my hand
Belittling the shards in my bossoms
Dismissing my remonstrance; to Hell with it
“I can bear it, I know I can.”

But you couldn’t. No, you wouldn’t
Your body has began to gnaw
The dilapidated bed creaks, your temper peaks
“I’m out, loving you isn’t the law.”

Uncaged a phoenix traversed into the blazing sun
unfurling its throbbing wings, soaring
The pain a relic of a bygone age.
Mind possessed by the stars
The horizon ablaze with optimism