Breathless . . . Heaving . . . Sputtering . . .
Many more steps to go.
Hardened feet.
No longer are my steps maligned by stabs of blood.
Condemnation . . . Damnation . . . Corruption . . .
My seasoned back launches into my perennial burden.
And another step I take.
Into an inevitable future of drudgery.
Hope . . . Exoneration . . . Absolution . . .
Have long been forgotten.
Their burnt ashes adorn my forehead.
My shoulder screams ahead, into the weight it upholds.
Rumble  . . . Rumble . . . Rumble . . .
Each step like the millions before it,
thrusts the stone another foot towards the jagged peak
that towers impressively up ahead.
Dum Da De  . . . Dum Da Doo . . . Dum De Da Dum . . .
And the day goes on.
Dum Da De . . . Dum Da Doo . . . Dum De Da Dum . . .
And the night lives long.
Breathless . . . Heaving . . . Sputtering . . .
My war-torn muscles relax.
And the stone sits.
Stares at the valley below.
Lightning . . . Rain . . . Thunder . . .
The wind caresses and cajoles,
And the stone rolls down below, echoing Thor’s exclamations
And my heart leaps with joy.
After all, there will be another day.
And my feet have hardened anyway.
Ha Ha . . . Ha Ha . . . Ha Ha . . .

In the shadow of a tall mountain
I pitch a tent
I lay a fire
I eat berries
I bathe in the pond
People come, people go
They say much, as do I
And once after the fortnightly storm
A hole I dig, and a seed I sow
Of a pellet of light wrested from my chest
And people come, and people go
But the sunshine never comes, for the mountain is tall
And the mountain is strong
But the sunshine I need, for the pellet to grow
And grow it must
Grow it must
Into a ball of light to walk into
That shines right through the mountain
And all around
But the mountain is tall, and the shadow is long, and the pellet has been sown
In the arc of perennial dark
People come, people go
But this time, one stayed
Without a reason too firm
And little is said
Except the voice of the lantern carried in anew
And the gentle, flickering light, flows on the seed
Like the lapping of rippling water on the pond’s shore
The pellet of light throbs softly, breathes easy
And after we pat fondly the mound of earth on the seed’s womb
We pitch a tent
We lay a fire
We eat berries
We bathe in the pond
In the shadow of a tall mountain

You wake up
And churn out your routinely manufactured day,
Till the obliviousness washes over you
Till you can barely breathe
And you pant, and you heave
And you sputter out an exclamation of remorse
In being born
In an era with no answers and fashioned morals.
To be nailed down to the earth, while being a child of the universe.
One which taunts you with its domineering presence
In every direction
Around every nook.
Reminding you of your insignificance.
Of your nature, so fleeting.
A flung out piece of excrement
Floating around the abyss.
A taunt.
Your life is a taunt.
And the great big being laughs his great big laugh.
The shudder of his belly causes civilizations to fall
And children to be born
To a small little wail
Which wades across the cosmic fabric
As an impending omen of inevitable suffering.
Flee, you rotting carcasses
Separated from the inevitable only by mother time.
Flee
Till your spirit tapers into nothingness
And points towards nothingness.

I am here.
I am, now.
I am not there.
I am not, then.
This is the purpose of my existence.
I look up at infinity.
I look up into the past.
What I see is not what is.
Close your eyes, shed the glasses.
What I think is what is.
Reality is limited only by thoughts.
Unleash them. Set them free. Experience. Perceive.

Comprehend the gravity of your dark side.
All who have laughed, have also cried.

Who decides what is right or wrong?
Sing along to the funeral song.

For every love, there is a heartbreak.
Relish every moment of the ache.

Savour all pain till it is gone.
Close the door, and scream on.

Liberate yourself from your throbbing rage.
Don't waste effort in buying a cage.

Revel in the scald of total isolation.
Look within to find your salvation

Opposites decease without one another.
How can you define one sans the other?

A whirlpool of thoughts swirled
as I slowly jogged around the park.
Amid the futile struggle of light,
against the approaching dark.

To never let go of the strings of past,
as stubborn as a flickering flame.
The road ahead mirrors the bygones.
We needn't look far for the blame.

The crushing burden of modern life;
facing the music with his head unbowed.
He gets on his feet with wounded knees,
and smiles at the succumbing crowd.

Innumerable choices present themselves,
as many as the peppered stars, abundant.
Each with unfathomable potential, yet
the path chosen invariably redundant.

He walks about the infinite desert;
the scalding ache of complete isolation.
He covets the presence of a nearby soul,
whose essence is but a mere reflection.

I drew in a lungful of evening air;
the immediate difference, so stark!
Yielding to the juggernaut of conformity,
as I slowly jogged around the park.

s;dlf