You were supposed to give of yourself--
Your angel dust was dragon fire;
*The spark to her funeral pyre.

She sings her sweet songs,
Calling all the sailors home;
*A homing beacon.

I found my love,
*He told me to wake up!

In their darkness they grew,
Like shadows,
Reaching for a deeper Hell;
In their blackness they grew,
Bound together,
As they stood by the other's side;
Destroying each other--
Bit by bit...

*Devouring each other--
Bite
by
bite...

those sounds you make
with air and your voice box,
they're all made for me.
the words...that's what you call them.

when you pen down these words for me,
you're knitting my clothes:
black thread
embroidered on white.
always the same always so different.

that's how everyone gets to know me:
with your name, (always) the right fit
like a shoe that goes with every dress

I am the soul of all your creations
that part of your soul
that resides in white
I am all that energy that has bled from you
I am your soul - your soul is in me

I dwell in the blood that sweats through your pores.
I am the thrum of havoc in your veins.
I am the reason your heart beats.
it beats to my name.
you're mine.
you will never forget me.

I am your arrogance
I am the reason butterflies flutter
I am truth, I am redemption
I am lies and smiles
and that story you ache to write...

I am alive in the human touch
that keeps you hurting healing bleeding
tumbling in pain agony hate
through the impossibilities of your humanity.
I give you strength warmth courage tolerance
to go on,
to keep on living
and to keep me alive...

I draw life
from that
weird goofy and frankly whacked out part
of your mind
that thinks
I can talk to you

like

at
this
very
moment...

There is a sleep
That beckons to me:
Takes hold of my soul.

There is an ache
That deepens the wound:
Tears open a hole in my heart.

There is a mask
That stays on my tongue;
My self
And in my eyes,
So they know I haven't fallen apart,
*Just yet...

It's a confusing puzzle,
But still holds true:
You can't live with me;
I can't live without you.

Life is but a journey,
I chose to go through with you;
But now that you won't have me,
It's hard for me to continue.

Fate is a bitter cruel harpy,
With her sisters she conspires
For the death of my Love,
As your Love for me transpires!

Hope is a painful therapy,
It burns while nursing Time's stabs;
But the scars strengthen Experience,
As it assists to keep Reason's tabs.

Love and Reason are antithesis,
That can't co-exist;
But their affinity is such
That to be together they persist.

Perfection in Love is when
There is room for Reason;
But when Reason and Logic court,
Love calls it Treason!

Love is unfair and immature,
And still as pure as a dove;
But there's no use of Reason,
With the death of Love.

This poem is an analogy:
Which in life stands true;
It's no use of me loving you,
If there's no hope for you to love me too.

It's easy to be good at many things,
It's sad to be known for just a few;
It's alright to try everything once,
But it's hard to be an Ace among the crew.

It does take a lot of courage
To accept the norms and later pine;
But to stand up to what you believe in--
That takes a hell of a thick spine!


People call it arrogance,
To walk away from the crowd;
But with time, the one who walked away,
Is the one who walks proud.

Free will is an illusion for many,
It's a social necessity to walk in a herd;
Society accepts you on its own conditions--
Which if not fulfilled, you remain unheard...

There's a monarchy of tradition,
That feeds a monopoly of disappointment;
It's your charity to their egos,
That secures your appointment!


Go, find where you belong,
Amidst this raging tide;
Swim through the mailstorm,
Pull at the chains that keep you tied.

Break free of those psych bonds,
Move out into the light;
Rid yourself of that ancient poison,
And proclaim your own path as right.

It feels unbounded,
expanded beyond wrinkles,
hammered by swinging pendulums;
hardened, with time slipping by...

I feel bound
by forgotten promises,
lost and unfounded;
with tearful, tired eyes.

In the dark, I find words I can barely see,
feelings I can barely contain;
falling through the cracks,
overwhelmed with disdain...

I see no end to this depthless void...

my phone beeped
in an almost deserted train compartment.
my boss,
'where have you reached?'
I sighed and replied,
'should reach in 5'
(would reach in 20)
same old dance
to the tune of corporate slavery.

a sharp sound,
I looked up.
the sound dissolved
into a fit of giggles.

a group of kids
playing around, teasing,
their mother close by;
a hawker, selling trinkets in the train.

it looked so natural.
a working mum
looking after her kids while on the job
(doesn't work that way does it?
guess they didn't have anywhere safe
without her)

I couldn't look away.

it was such a sight...
torn, tattered clothes
dirt and mud all over
and those innocent giggles;
it didn't add up.

I was tired, aching,
infatuating about sleep;
feet bleeding in killer heels,
rushing around without purpose,
forced into an exploitative overtime job
by myself; frustrated,
trying to keep up with society.

the little family
calm, collected;
torn, tattered smiles held with grace,
facing their exploitative poverty
with innocent mischief and honest labour.

confused,
I had a thought:
that's the life they've known,
this is the life I've known.
we fit in our lives...
differently?

no...
we fit in different lives in the same way.
I struggle she struggles,
we both have good bad days.

I didn't realize I was smiling
till she smiled back.

I bought something
and got off at the next stop,
wishing she has more good days than bad
and the kids keep their giggles
a little longer than they can..

fiction: the figment of a great writer's imagination.

the words, ink on plain paper;
feeble in their existence,
tell me to be *fierce and compassionate.
to have something to love,
more deeply than any being is capable of;
to try...
so that there is something my soul will reside in,
which is not me,
something I can face a fight to death for...

they are not only books.
they are the silent teachings learnt by these authors,
living through hardships.
they are metaphors,
symbols of lessons to be applied in our lives.
their passion, their wounds, living inside of their words;
they speak to us readers,
in their meek mild voices;
to hope,
to have faith,
to believe in something someone beyond ourselves,
to be human in the face of impossibilities,
eve­n through difficult dark times,
to be humble in the face of success­,
to ride our dragons into oblivion,
to hunt them down and slay them like wolves,
to never­ give up...


*'Winter is coming'
'We must try not to sink beneath our anguish, but battle on.'
'Do or do not. There is no try.'
'A hero can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as he has the nerve.'
'You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it.'
'If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior.'
'We will not just be another piece in their games.'
'Fear doesn't shut you down. It wakes you up.'
'Old things are better than new things, because they've got stories in them.'
'Not all those who wander are lost.'
'We accept the love we think we deserve.'
'Grief does not change you. It reveals you.'
'This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.

"As the same fire assumes different shapes
When it consumes objects differing in shape,
So does the one Self take the shape
Of every creature in whom he is present."
(Katha Upanishad II.2.9)

"As the rivers flowing east and west
Merge in the sea and become one with it,
Forgetting they were separate rivers,
So do all creatures lose their separateness
When they merge at last into pure Being.
There is nothing that does not come from him.
Of everything he is the inmost Self.
He is the truth; he is the Self supreme.
You are that Shvetaketu, you are that."
(Chandogya Upanishad IV.10.1-3)

I don't understand,
Why, in this land,
Where these sacred
scriptures were written,
Were so many religions born--

I don't understand,
How, in this land,
Were differences encouraged,
When the backbone of all life
Always was recognized as liberation--

The acknowledgement
Of all different religions, castes, creeds,
Really broke the deal you know...

Imagine, if all the cultures were mixed
Instead of being *separated, unconnected, segregated;
And churned into a liberal philosophy
The Philosophy of Liberation (read: Moksha)
We'd have prevented so many wars,
All fought under the cloak of differences and disparities;
We could have averted
So much bloodshed,
So many innocent screams--

And these shudders down your spine right now?
They would be the product of fiction;
Not the echoes of cruel reality...

There was a voice in my head,
Someone was screaming really loud;
I heard the voice from a distance,
I could barely make anything out.

I heard a voice at a distance,
The voice was mine, and it screamed;
I was screaming ****** ******,
I had murdered who I used to be...

Remember the first good day we spent?
The sea washed out the sand at our feet,
The city lights twinkled like the stars above.
Only, these were the stars we could touch.
It was the first I'd seen of your carefree laugh;
I told myself then, I haven't seen it enough.
I still haven't had enough of it...

She said, 'The city lights are the stars,
They twinkle in the shrouded night.
I have been waiting for someone
To help me reach for the light.'

It's like I'm in a dream...
Were we together in our past lives?
I was holding this torch forever,
In the darkness, I could only burn bright,
For my neverending love, to seek the forgotten light;
To reunite, and spark into flames together,
Like the Sun, warming, *burning, with it's light;
And I finally found you, through all those blackest nights.

He said, 'If this was meant to be,
I will die over & over again to be in different eras with you.
*To live forever despite living various lives,
To live in the end and die in the beginning!'

You rushed in,
Charging through her barriers;
You wanted her, so you had her--

Then, you simply up and left,
*And she was wrecked...

To be beautiful
Is to be almost dead,
Is it not?

Your voice is never heard,
'Cause your face talks too loud...

I hate who they think I am,
And as a result, I hate them.
That's why I don't like a lot of people--
*You see, it's their fault!

Freedom,
Like the rain, it washes all away
Past memories, horrors - everything is rinsed away; relief remains.
It feels like sand between your toes,
Leaving you lost in your impulsive throes.

Freedom,
In her dissolving smiles,
Her mischievous flirts,
Her sweet small skirts...

You've missed her for so long...

The touch of her spine,
The caress of her thighs,
The weightless good byes--

Ah! Freedom, *she smells like rain...

Do not look at me like that.
With those eyes that see only what is shone to you.
And you accept all of it.
No questions asked.
No logic, no reason to seek.
No.
I am not just an object you can look at.

Do not look at me like that.
With the judgment of their thoughts
That you so shamelessly replicate
in your feeble, feeble mind.
No originality.
You bore me in your dullness.
No.
I am not who you think I am.

Do not look at me like that.
With ears filled with their whispers.
I can hear them too, you know.
You're not very discreet.
No.
I am not defined by the stories they say.

I am not an open book,
Or a single shade,
Or a monotone.
I feel nothing for their interests.
I am not alive in their ballads of woe.

I am alive in myself.
I am the abstract, I am the obtuse.
My colors, range to infinity.
My stories have happy sad tormenting everafters.
I do not care for their hollow affection or their false ratification.
I am unattached and I breathe fire--
in.
out.

I'm ablaze in my little place of ease.
Even alone, I have found my love...
She was there along.
Residing in me,
It was always--
me.

*I am myself. That is enough.

Walking in the garden,
I stepped onto the grass
Barefoot,
And revelled in the tingles
On the soles of my feet
That made me smile.

The grass was wet.
Absently, I sat myself down
And felt the grass in my hands...
'The grass is wet,' I thought,
'It feels nice, cool and peaceful,
But water doesn't catch fire...'

*Can the fire inside me burn in serenity?
Or will it burn out my peace
And c
          o
           n
          s
         u
         m
           e
               me?

rain finally falls,
pitter-patter,
the heavens burst,
splitter-splatter,
it pours,
drip-drop
down,
noisily,
making itself known,
and thunder growls,
to tell me,
'I'm here!'.

Why don't we have scars
For feeling too deeply?

No broken ribs
No punctured lungs
And yet, not an easy breath...

--

I want to blink out the stars
And let the blackness fall upon me

To forget this crippling despair
And breathe freely again...

We live another complication everyday,
Adding another thread to bind us.

It's been so long...
Can't move my wings, my limbs--
How did I get stuck?
Did I do this to myself?
The *puppeteer is pulling too hard!
I want to move,
But I can't
I'm twisted up,
The thread is too tight;
I can feel the dread of suffocation on the horizon.
I'm trying, I'm fighting,
I want to be free!
But I can't move anymore...

The thread won't let me,
The strings are being pulled too tight--
My prison, it cuts into my skin,
I can barely breathe enough to live on...
I want this suffering to end!

Aah! Yes...
I remember now,
I took the thread of my own free will!

It started that day...
When I heard them speak,
I did as they asked,
And the thread wound around me.
I didn't ask for answers and didn't speak of my questions;
I kept on going where their path lead,
And I ended up here:
Suffocated, stranded, in naïve ignorance.

Even though the puppeteer wants me to move,
Even though I can feel his anxiety to help;
He can't do a thing.
The thread has been wound too tight,
*If the thread won't snap soon,
I will.

It was selfish of her
To leave.
She needed the change;
Had to move,
Having been stuck so long
She felt suppressed,
And so depressed.
She just needed to leave,
But where could she start?

He was easiest to leave,
The most convenient to cut off;
He didn't hold on,
He didn't even try.
She didn't know,
Was she angry
That it was easy for her to leave?
Or that he didn't even try to stop it?

But she had to leave,
The reasons didn't matter,
The semantics were moot,
Whether he wanted her to,
Or he didn't--
Whether she wanted to,
Or she didn't want him to let her;
Nothing mattered.

It was truly selfish of her
To leave.
She had to fly
And he made it easy for her
To leave him behind...

I quit
your ******* list
a long time ago...

With every day that passes,
They say we grow into someone else;
But we have a person inside of us,
Who we meet every time we wake.
It's the person you speak to
Right before you sleep at night,
That conscious mind you coexist with;
The voice that speaks to you,
That lives in you...

*We simply become our true selves again...

Don't hurt me anymore,
Stop clipping my wings;
Can't you see?
I'm bleeding here in agony...

The torture, the pain,
Why won't you stop?
Just leave me be...
Why can't you see the human in me?

The angel that fell,
The one bound in hell;
Burning in fires deep and dark.

Banished from heaven,
His sins they call seven;
He eats off their bones like a shark.

Liars and cheaters,
Thieves and deceivers;
They squirm as for hell they depart.

He breeds on their fears,
He laughs at their tears,
And squeezes all hope from their heart.

He owns all their souls,
Makes them walk over coals,
He tortures their spirit with his fork;

He whips open their skin,
While he burns up their kin,
And slaughters their faith just like pork.

With hate for a heart,
He plays well his part,
As he waits for a new light of day;

A day when he shall be free,
And roam the earth with glee,
While those who banished him shall pray.

But pray as they may,
For another Godly say,
No warmth shall break through the cold;

While innocents are slayed,
And daylight delayed,
And stories of hope sell like gold.

The world I see
Is colored in red.
I know, I'm the monster
Under your bed...

You cry yourself
To sleep every night;
I speak to you,
Each. Word. Filled. With. Ssspite.

I like your flesh,
It's pink and sweet.
I want to bite it off
And taste your meat.

You're a bird in a cage,
That cage isn't mine;
You refuse to leave
Your self behind.

You're a willing puppet,
I'll play the puppeteer's part;
I'll tear open your flesh
And rip out your heart.

I'll torment and torture,
Till your words are stained red.
*Beware! I'm the monster
Under your bed...

To be haunted
By voices of people
I have known,
But will never meet;

To be drawn
Into worlds
I have explored,
But will never see;

The sheer emotion of reading,
Magnifies and withers across each page;
With ink tearing into our hearts,
Leaving us yearning at each epilogue...

By following the light,
You will break yourself.
You will be punched and pushed,
And stretched to lengths
you never thought you could venture.
But you will survive.

The light saves you from that decaying part of you that would be your demise.
It heals you and makes you whole.
By destroying you,
and putting you back together.
Tighter.
Stronger.

--

A new day,
A new person.

You rise from the fire;
The flames lick your skin.
They feel warm,
And you feel rejuvenated.

You are reborn from fire, from the light,
And light you become.

--

The darkness is repelled by your presence;
You have broken free of your deficiencies.
By conquering your demons,
You have proved yourself above the dark.

The blackness is trapped beneath your feet,
*It can never control you again...

Let's write ourselves a poem,
You be the verse, I'll be the rhyme;

Let's find ourselves a feast of words,
And slash them down on white.

Let's sit ourselves in a quiet corner,
So temptation isn't bright;

Let's be ourselves for each other,
And spend our days in the light.

Let's be together for once, forever,
The rest can wait in line;

Let's not change the mellow mood,
And forget the needle and the pine.

Let's lay by ourselves for a little moment,
While I spell our love out on your spine;

Let's share ourselves a life's dream,
And paint it on the starry skies.

Let's pen ourselves our memories,
To remember for all of time...

*I told you we'd write ourselves a poem,
But you ditched me for the dime!

standing alone,
confused,
you stare at the world ahead,
a life you'd once imagined in your head...

weeping quietly,
you hurt,
you finally acknowledge the dull hum,
the loneliness that made you numb...

waiting patiently,
you hope,
refusing to go down without fighting,
struggling to emblaze the torch you're lighting...

dreaming serenely,
you wish,
to see her again, to say it out loud,
explaining that your heart is ever afloat the cloud...

singing softly,
you rejoice,
she's standing at your door, torn and dazed,
glad you weren't just a memory she crazed...

vowing silently,
you've fallen,
she's in your arms for now forever,
for her, you'd brave a year of stormy weather...

*you'll never let her go, never again...

If I ever get where I want to be,
I'd like to be forgotten,
To never be recognized;
To just exist without an existence...
So that I can feel alive where I stand
With every breath, sound, touch;
So that I can witness the world
In all it's entirety
Without standing behind a screen of an identity...
To taste the colors with my eyes
And appreciate the eternity of the world
Without a barrier of an illusioned existence--
*For I won't exist any more,
And all barriers would, therefore, have been forfeit..

light dark bright black white,
the yin and the yang of time;
morning, day then night.

Bleeding through moments
Spent alone and lost

Sinking in thoughts
That fill my heart with frost

Dreading another sunrise
Another day to live through

Enduring this bitter loneliness
While I try to find my way to you

Twice upon a time, did our worlds collide.
Two pairs of limbs, had broken ties.
Two worlds had ended, when one began;
As a new dawn crept, I held your hand.

'Life is still a blank canvas', he said.

So she told him to paint a house.
All fenced up,
And to color the grass extra green.
(So that temptation wouldn't court him)

'Why that picture?', he asked.

She replied, *'Because no matter where you go,
Your roots should always bring you home.'

'Because even if the sky is the limit,
And you reach it, the greenest grass
Even from way up above,
will always be your beacon.'

'Because change should be a shade vibrant,
Only then change could mean growth.'

'Because that home you build,
Will be your resting place.
After you've conquered your dreams--
It'll be your place of ease.'

'And', she said, 'because marks and goals
are set first,
the course decided later.
Lastly, *because those pictured endings,
are the best place to begin.'

when it aches,

with every breath;
in out in out in
out.
each inhale exhale punctuated with a sharp pang of pain that leaves you gasping on the floor.

when you bleed,

and you can't find a puncture wound;
drip drop drip drop drip
drop.
the crimson nectar that flows out of your veins, fleeing from your heart, evading you.

when you go blind,

your head aches;
bang bang boom bang bang
boom.
a hammer tolling on the top floor of your anatomy, like that church bell you religiously avoid.

when sounds get overwhelming,

screeeeeeechy sounds,
that make you want to jump off a cliff.
as if your ears decided to behave like 'whats-her-name' at 'holy-****-that-time-of-the-month!'.

you should know then, that you've been shot;
right at that literal sweet center spot.

and you've fallen hard,
for that treacherous huntress.
who would chew you raw,
with all her blunt honesty,
with all her fierce stubbornness,
with all her untamed compassion,
not to forget, her screaming womanhood
you can't get your eyes off...

the one who would walk all over you,
in her not-less-than-seven-inch Steveies';
and wouldn't give it a second thought.

and you know,
in that torn tattered broken cardiac ***** at your core,
*that you would let her...

Their laugh was your alarm,
You woke up to find yourself down.

Don't let your awakening be caught
In the circle of sleep and sentience again.

Live. In every moment. Don't close your eyes anymore.
Don't rest now. An uneasy siesta just isn't enough.

Saddle your dragon and fly to the limitless sky.
Breach your extremes and push through them.

Let your armor shine, let them know they forged it.
The pain they caused, it has welded with your skin.

When you arise from your trial,
*The next time they laugh, there won't be tears in your eyes.

The ride of the tide,
A change in its shape,
It's soft glow in the dark...

It seeks the blackness
*And consumes it.

She is dead,
Now I am free;
She had a will
And her eyes on me.
Her will had strings,
But can't you see,
I tore her strings
And I broke free...

She fought me hard,
But still she fell;
She kept me in,
While I gave her hell.
I was her nightmare
She'd never tell;
As weak she was,
She loved him well.

Her will is dead,
And so is she;
The one she protected,
Is no more free--
The one she hid,
Is now exposed;
The one she loved,
Will be disposed.

It cannot be,
She shares my stage;
She cheated death,
And turned the page--
She's alive inside,
Fighting the wars I wage;
She did not die,
*She's crying in the birdcage...

The beauty of chaos is that,
It doesn't always stand for destruction;
Sometimes it's merely a lack of structure.
It's Fate, undergone a twisted lobotomy...

--

You're caught in a whirlwind, with no sense of direction;
Once the storm has passed
And the feeling of sanity is restored,
You get up and walk on,
On whatever path you've been dropped on;
And after a few miles you'll ask yourself:
*Was it all meant to be?

That day was the first time
That I saw the light.
Out of a carton, and onto a shelf.
My life was about to begin,
But I was alone and confined.

I could feel a presence to my left,
And another to my right,
But no one to please my eyes.
Till the little boy came,
With the tingle of a bell.
Wonder, gleamimg in his eyes;
He looked around and smiled.

He ran straight to my rack,
Brimming with excitement,
And jarred me with the shake of a lifetime.
Jumping to get his mum's attention,
He said, "I wan' this 'un!"

I felt a pang in the middle of my molded chest,
And I wished I could keep that smile.
I tried to imitate the little boy,
But for all my wishes I could not move;
I was but a plastic doll: armed, clothed and inanimate,
Stored to be sold...

The little boy was a joy to see,
Every morning he would wake up to me,
He would speak to me while going to school,
And play with me instead of eating his food.

His father and mum were hardly home,
He stayed with his nanny and loved her so,
But talk was little for the endless chores.

Late at night when his parents would come,
He would try to talk to them,
But was rushed away with talk of excuse.
In the dark he lay, tucked in with me,
Tears would stain the covers and me,
He held me close as he shut his eyes,
And the next morning again he'd wake to me.

For a life to be spent alone is sad indeed,
With a world so big and plenty,
To have not a soul to talk to can be lonely.
He cried with me by his side,
Thinking he was all alone;
If only I could move this plastic form,
I could let him know it wasn't so!

He played with me day and night,
He kept me close when he shut his eyes,
He took me to his school and everywhere else,
He gave me friends: his other toys and himself;
But his tears every night always stained my heart,
I strived so much to play my part,
To make him smile from dawn to dusk,
To comfort him when smiling was tough.

This cursed life I wish to forfiet,
If only once I could shed but a tear along with him--
*Even toys have things and people
They wish to protect and cherish,
But tears won't fall from these tin eyes...

We live under the sun,
Its brightness warming us,
Leading us to every other minute,
One moment at a time;
It casts our shadow on the wall.
But in every moment we live,
We forget.
The shadows, they lengthen till dusk,
And vanish in the dark.
And we don't miss our shadow,
We don't remember.
That gentle touch that didn't leave a mark,
But marks our existence in the light...

Just as we don't always remember,
The gentle love shared with us
In a stranger's smile.
A smile, which with a helpful hand,
Lifts us up and tells us we were seen.
*A gentle touch that doesn't leave a mark,
But acknowledges our existence in this busy, busy world...

We live in this world
And wake, walk, talk and take of it.
We gamble our survival by living here
And breathe and drink and eat and sleep in its shelter.
We seek ourselves and meet each other;
At other times, we thirst and hunger for a part of another's life.
We lust and crave and take pride in ourselves
While we look around for all that isn't ours.
We grab and we ******,
We demolish and destroy,
And forsake this world that sustains us.
We forgo our debts and shrug responsibility,
By walking away from what we have caused.
We leave nought but destruction in our wake
No matter where we go...

--

We are humans who can think.
We are beings with an intellect.
We are capable of communicating with one another...
And yet,
*We wear a mask we never take off...

They say we are Different;
But how can that be true?
When all I see,
Is me and you.

Earth is but a ball of dirt,
Devoid of man's treaties;
Still, it sustains within itself
Thousands of different species.

So why by them were these
Distinct separations made?
Why were colours distinguished,
And Humanity left to fade?

What is their purpose
Of praying to God above,
When his creation of a Heart,
They condemn without Love?

They walk the same soil;
They breathe the same air;
They drink the same water,
Then why do they despair?--

It's not Faith as they call it;
It's Vile Hyprocrisy redefined,
That leaks Doubt and Angst
Into a perfectly Tolerant mind.

For they frown at our Choices,
They mock at our Bruise;
They scorn at our Differences,
But our Similarities they refuse!--

It's a matter of the mind,
That plays forth illusions;
*Differences are evasive maneuvers
Against mental intrusions!

Overdone rituals and the burden of traditions.
Peer pressure and annoying gossip prevailing above reason and reality.
The unwarranted compulsion of academic excellence, with no acceptable compromise!

Our rotten society and it's cruel, cruel judgment!
Living in a body, no, it's a cage--
Craving acceptance in isolation--

The cage became a cave
And eventually, the door shut.

It got so dark inside,
I could only see black...
I was sick of it!
Frustration rising to the point of retardedness!
Angry! So very ANGRY!
I wanted to defeat it,
This darkness on the inner side.
So bad, the ache for reprieve was getting worse!
So desperate!
For a way out...

Then, inspiration struck!
And a melody chimed its way in.
With the clock going tick tock
I imagined a chocolate block;
And I ate my way out!

*I've never bothered with their rules again.