"aeonic" poems
***Our souls are enfettered
By an Inexorable Penance,
Sorrows & Lamentations:***
In pining for
The Light of Transmutation
The Adamantine Wings
Of Stalwart Bahamut
Unburdened our etherealized hearts.
(Speaking for the future)
Spira has lost its
Yoke of Communion
To this Cimmerian Millennium.
Redemption’s Revelation:
Aeonic sin hath reigned
Under the Cathedral of Deception
Forged by the taught tongues
**Of Yevon;
Despotic Lunae
Eclipsed the light
Of a forlorn sky,
Divine Pantheon
For
Numen of Sol.**
Cast a
Stygian Shadow of Sanctimonious Suffering for Souls.
Seems eternal; truly, ephemeral.
**For,
the Hearts of nations
Are
Sacrosanct Luminaries.**
Our tears
Have been shed,
Our vanities
Indemnified.
**Skies shall bleed Empyrean Bliss
And
The Opus of Life
Shall cleanse
This wearied Spira of Pernicious Sin.**
(Amen.)***
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 5:47 AM UTC
Yes, me too often indulge in romance
But not a tale of this body & brains
It is all a godly play of my heart & soul
When sadness prevails, myself is lost in dreams.
When the body is sleeping
and lust is mild
My soul awakes and fly
Searching for another of matching kind.
Dream of deep romance with flirting moon
Growing on a puff of cloud
Hugging to my chest a glistening star,
Songs of mid- night are hyptonising & loud.
Busy myself in mundane affairs
No other heart yells, I did take care
GLOOM- my childhood buddy stayed with me
Till I found one noble soul- my heavenly stair.
I don't wish touch of her fingers
Creeping to mine,
No beating ******* & cheek to cheek
All this I feel is a SIN & crime.
Teasing mouth with kisses till one speak,
May be a frantic fad for the mortals and weak,
Her soft- silken voice gives immense delight
'Sweet & kindly smile' only is
what I seek.
No staring gaze, no trembling lips
No drowsy & close- pressed head,
No sensual music,
to make me mad.
No claustrophobia of red- light lanes,
No shattered hopes, no broken window- panes.
Diamonds & gems are worthless, I loathe
Her smiling glance mesmerise and allure,
Blossomed to perfection, she is near to God,
Simple, sober, wise and pure.
Don't mind, what her sharp brain
think of me,
But, I do take care that
her noble soul finds nothing obnoxious & unvirtuous in
mortal me.
Aeonic feelings I cannot draw on canvas,
My sorrowful eyes remain unseen- Oh Dear,
What she needs is a pair of stronger glasses
than the normal ones she usually wear.
Swim around in whirlpool of human emotions,
shunned & lonely I did FEEL,
But, when found her dilemmas & loneliness deeper than mine,
Felt 'DIVINE CONNECTION' with her noble soul
And now I smile and sing with heavenly zeal.
Mukesh Kataria
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 8:30 AM UTC
The cadenza of life is its \
magistry. \
What is life? \
What is love? \
What is liberty \
without embrace \
& without freedom \
Emancipation \
is our sacral birthright. \
Mankind & womankind \
must not live life captive \
to their desires & yearnings\
This path \
would be onerous \
& burdensome to the spirit & soul that —pines for liberty. \
However, we must cleave to the light for the light is aeonic, is mystic, is sempiternal, is eternal, is kingly. \
—The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love is calling. \
(—Se’ lah)\
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 11:36 PM UTC
Incessant writhing, restiveness and pain
Deep inside at the core of my heart, these do flourish & breed
Their successive & demonely endeavours
To get freedom from unbreakable clutches of delicate emotions
Do never ever succeed.
At the threshhold of my maleable heart
A silent entry of hitherto unfelt emotions
Busy in gleaning the shattered memories of my dormant past
Dovetailing them hard & giving these a golden cast.
The same old, aeonic & profound pain
Rises slowly but, it pinches again
My innocent heart gets fiercely swayed
It succumbs even when the issues are unnoticed to motley crowd and appear to be wierdly trite
Because the only language it understands best is of "intense love"
& not of any petty fight.
The journey of life was boorish & deadly boring,
My wading heart had very long to wait
But Himalayan thanks to the caring & ubiquitous god
Now my baby- smile is back
As I have got one pretty- pretty SOUL- MATE.
Mukesh kataria
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 12:08 PM UTC
What does it mean to be truly free? /
Walk unafraid through the turbulence /
Of a world with so much unknown. /
Know that the principalities in power /
Do not quell, do not pacify the Holy Dove. /
The heartless, the lost, the wayworn, /
We pray they'll find their way /
We beseech divine Aether that all pain be undone. /
A miasma lingers in the atmosphere: /
The sting of death & of mourning. /
Wandering in loss, fugitive these words lay /
In my subconscious; therefore, I look within /
For the sinew, the strength to carry on. /
Life continues for so long as we pilgrimage, we roam, /
The Land of The Living. /
3 "With that I heard a loud voice from the throne say: /
'Look! The tent of God is with mankind, and he will reside with them /
And they will be his people. And God himself will be with them. /
4 And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes and death will /
Be no more, neither will mourning, nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away.'"—Revelation 21: 3, 4 (NWTSE)
What limitless heights we could achieve /
Without the kiss of death, /
Yet a life eternal awaits those who are liege & faithful /
Yes, one without suffering & one without loss; /
Moreover, cause for rejoicing! /
Should I awake upon the morrow /
I will not fear my departure /
For I know that something illimitable, something aeonic, something sempiternal, /
& something far grander awaits: /
—Life eternal. /
Mar 22, 2024
Mar 22, 2024 at 3:44 PM UTC
I must trust that
Every flaw is a blessing
And with each set of imperfections
There will also be a set of advantages,
It’s the process of efflorescence
That creates such a painful dichotomy;
Blossoming is like an upward spiral of refinement
Extricating iniquity, thereby, heralding excellency.
The ego is a feeble sense of self-identification;
Therefore, I must aim higher,
Or aim to fail instead.
If forsooth, I fail to aim,
I will
Inherit
Defeat by default
(Witherance in its wake).
Words become a lost art
In my odyssey; Without integrity,
The highest divine is futility.
Of Truth in this heart of mine
Acquisition always lies in action,
Motion creates energy
And energy is limitlessness
In what it creates & magnetizes.
When the static rises
I will relinquish my fears
Unto the Deific Divine,
All that quakes my heart,
All that thunders,
What Makes this Mind’s Sky tremulous
Shall be purged & undone
By the Holy Dove.
We all become deluged by darkness
& vexation, at these exhalations
Oblivion seems legion,
We lose our ability to hear
The voice within;
Yet, these oracular undulations,
Are our beckoning The Empyrean
For salvation.
Believe in The Arbiter Of Fates,
Fathom that His fatidic waves
Augur redemption to those
Iniquitously ordained; enclaved,
In the Visage of Shadows
You will come to know
The inviolable promise, that sacrosanct oath
Of aeonic, sempiternal, everlasting love.
(Se' lah)
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 7:11 PM UTC
Totality escapes beneath me, all that I’ve left unexplored collapses unto me.
Triggered, by self centered inundation, I might as well be gone.
For what do I provide the collective? But neglect and self indulgent plunder.
Relive this aeonic cage, cyclic and persistent. Yet each existence we reach a new peak.
So benevolent, and elegant. I need to relive samsara to fill my void.
Be meaningful to others. Because I do not matter, what I do matters.
Momentarily, this escapes me, shameful and foolish, I must regain such tonic insight.
It combats my abysmal fear of inconsequentiality.
I’ve reflected in infantilism, however I think I’ve found what guides us to actualization.
At least myself anyway, I need to mean something to others.
I need to teach and learn from my peers, whom I overlook as of now.
How myopic and repugnant. White from shame I apologize to those who’d listen.
I open my arms to all. Let me help, show me how to help.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 9:48 PM UTC
In the highest barricades
of Millennia
and wilted fields of Lavender,
I might’ve loved you.
I might’ve taken your hand
and let you lead me
through ghoulish night.
I might’ve held you
with the fervor
of endless,
winkless
Dreams,
in holy concaves
of majesty
and infatuation,
saturated
by opal irises
and kisses of
California summer.
I would’ve made you mine,
had I known then
what the Sirens now sing to me,
unrelentingly:
the secrets of Infinity
laid bare,
like iridescent
oil spills
in an empty lot
sodden
with weeds between cracks.
In another life,
I’ll call you back to me.
I’ll draw you back again
with a wrathful, raging love:
wild enough to wake gods,
fierce enough to tame odious tide,
deep enough
to drown aeonic suffering.
And not even Adam
or Eve
themselves
might undo the knots
of Fate
I’ll lace
between You
and I, then.
And I’ll grant you passage
to a second world
with a key that unlocks such
sacred Regret.
And I’ll point out all
the stars named after us,
as they swirl in
clouds of Violet,
storms of Indigo,
seas of twinkling,
ruptured
Gold.
And I’ll set a dagger
on your heart,
and you to mine,
and we’ll die together,
erupting
into
dazzling
bursts
of destined
dust,
travelling far enough
to be drawn together
once
again.
Sep 21, 2020
Sep 21, 2020 at 2:51 PM UTC