They lay beneath the layers
some seen and some absent
some quiet and some noisy
the fingers tremble
when trying to uncover the remnants
that send the shivers
down the spine
the feet freeze
the lights vacate
the eyes
Living Stories
The ghosts
Are the ghosts trying to make me speak?
Whatever they want to hear
the words do not get shaped anymore, into the suave sentences;
they just tumble out
in a chaotic bundle of despair.
The effects are swept
under the carpet.
Do you hear them?
Scars
The intellect becomes burdensome
and seeks a logical construct
to validate the emotions
borne off some long lost hurt
then the brazen takes over
creates the havoc
that leaves the indelible scars
on the wounded collective psyche.
The blank
At times the blank envelops
the slide starts into
the deep dark bottomless pit
you are transfixed as it seeps through your being
your eyes are locked onto it
till you decide
to break away
with all the might that you have.
And there you are!
The life has won once again.
Paranoia
The paranoia that you spewed
through the words that distorted
the expression;
sparked the dark anger
in the placid moment of acceptance of the craziness as mundane, dotted on the sheer sea of existence.
Deepsh27 