Friday, December 28, 2018

Child of a Lie

Smile with the Sun, half circle through the sky,
Speak, mimic, act out a mortis reply.
The tone deafens my spirit, wading through the night,
Speak my tongue, sing aloud, recite my burdened lies.

Fear runs a-mock, love hides in the bludgeoned bushes,
Surrounded by wolves preying on the undead child,
She cries, she tails a fable, unheard at first,
But a familiar cry for help, I hear you,

The wolves surround me, jiggered my soul, it screams,
Stretched out into a jacket of human carcass, I lie,
Morbid sanitarium, my only recourse of solace,
I wander, pandering through the undergrowth of life.

Poison tipped heart, why do you cry, do you wail,
Pierce me with your hate ridden smirk, let me rot,
The wolves are upon me, I rest, peace my solace,
Take me home, heal this broken mirror of a soul.

I walk the shoes of my forefather,  lying my way,
I plunder life, yapping the same lie, I grow old,
The same six feet of a hole, for me to rest.
Touch me, kiss me to sleep, make me yours,

My child of lie.

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Rhythm of the Southern Chimes

The broken hymn,
Rippling through the time,
Splitting across, solace it seeks.
Solace it offers.

The goddess of war,
With her risen swords,
Saint in her own right, stained with blood,
Blood she offers.

The southern wind chimes,
Hymns of the forgotten souls,
Waiting by the gates of heaven,
Should they fall, should they raise.

The echoes of the lost shores,
Waves of the hidden peace,
Crisp with sounds of a new borns' cries,
She raises, a mother of two.

The birth was a pain, she recalls,
The war gave birth to death,
Blood stained cloths she cleans,
Humming to rhythm of the Southern chimes.

Tuesday, June 19, 2018

The Death of a Star

Lillium's Journal

15th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

I just landed on an ancient orbiter by the name Europa, to witness one of the most historic events in my lifetime. Even between hyper jumps I am so exited to see this historical event. My body cries from gravitation drag, but my spirit lives on. I was asked to hibernate for a while, but you know how supper excited I am.

I had read about this giant star from my history lessons, and how an ancient religious entity by the name of Stephen Einstein had predicted the end. Their theories have been long proven wrong, and I just can't believe how dumb witted  people are to believe in some stupid theory as theirs. Any way, continuing with my journal, I have the most priced seat, and the grand collapse is underway. Its similar to the one back during the dis-integration of Terra. It was a beautiful scene back then, the planet breaking away piece by piece as it was sucked straight into the red giant. Thanks to the hypervisors though, else I would have missed everything back then.

16th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

Yesterday was a disappointing day, I did see the red giant grow bigger, splashing of its gravitational energy, but you know how slow these things are. I hope to see it turn to a dwarf at-least today.

Since I don't have any more stuff to write about today as the Red Giant just refuses to disintegrate, I will just write about the history of this red giant.
This red giant is called the VT139. It was called as Sun by the pre-historic species known as Homo Sapiens. VT139 had enough energy to fuel an entire planets need, unlike us who require three stars to fuel our energy needs. VT139 was a Nano planetary system, with its third planet having the highest probability of survival. Homo sapiens predominantly lived on Terra, the third planet, before shifting out into other star systems. ( I know, I am a big nerd ). Any way, thats all the history lesson for today, I am off to hibernate. The gravitational drag is finally acting up on me.

17th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

The same spot, and the same scene of a slow death. The giant seems to be emitting bursts of radiation. It is a beautiful sight, multi colored rays of protons shooting from the red giant. My com is active with data, many of which are statuses from others in the arena.

And finally after a long wait the Carbon collapse has started. The last of the helium atoms are compressing down into carbon. There was panic in the crowd as the gravitation pull of the Red Giant started to de-stabilise. Electro-magnetice flares could be seen every where on the surface of Europa.
I just hope the gravitational collapse doesn't hamper my pods. The TRS has already placed loop jumpers to puncture the Singularity-State for yet another hyper jump bridge. The time window is really small, but these guys are pros. My brother was on one of these missions once. He was more of a feed compressor though, but he did super magnificently explain how the hyper jump bridge forms within one millionth of a second.

The broadcast was the last thing I was hoping for. Thats all for today the TRS say. It seems they are trying to put up a EM field shield around the Singularity-Point. Its night for me I guess. Another day, another adventure.

18th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

The coms have all gone active. VT139 is on its final collapse, and one of the most beautiful of those. The Singularity-Crush. I had seen photon-graphs of those, but this is the first time I would be seeing one up so close. A single burst of the last escaping ray of light as the entire mass just becomes a big dark hole.

Monday, June 18, 2018

Fading Lights

The days labour paid, She folded her feathery palms,
Walked the long way back, Into the night, she disappears.

The blue of the night shone through her eyes,
Fading into the night, she hums the lullaby of a lost sleep.

A drop of ink smudged on her pearly face, She lays, dreams,
Inkblots dance on the white canvas of her being.

Circle of life, drawn out from the darkness into light,
As the dream drifts off, into the realms of nightmare.

She twists, she turns, sleep doesn't let go,
A flutter of uneasiness settles,  into an invisible prison of sleep

The sleep tarries a bit, swooning her with its wicked gaze,
Then lashing down with its claws, It tears her dreams.

In the end, the inkblot spreads, covering the white,
In the end, darkness wails, as the curtains fall to a fading light.

Wednesday, May 9, 2018

The Lull before the Storm

The little bee dropped its head, the buzz died,
Settling with the dust, a storm approaches.

A dried petal of a dying flower, bee smiles,
The petal floats, settling among the corpses.

The chaos blows its trumpet, mighty high it rides,
Victory, it screams, warpath is my home road.

My shield, my strength, where lost art thou,
Hold my arms, ride along, on the mighty toad.

The grunge of the metal, grinding on asphalt,
With every step I dissolve, I fade into space.

I try to hold on, your hands, your memories,
The bugle plays the harmonies, chaos stays.

And at length, the bee spoke again,
At length it stoped staring at the dead leaf.

A mighty roar, from a fragile being,
The storm approaches, stealth of a thief.

Sunday, March 18, 2018

The Sunshine

'Do you like the sound of rain?', 
Her mischievous smile spoke out, 
I do, I repeated, as my head bobbed. 

'Why let the clouds gloom you, then?',
Her teasing smile echoed through the silence, 
I don't know, I responded.

'Why is it that you like the sun?'
Her spirit giggled, a wide grin of teeth.
'Isn't it a good feeling?', I retorted.

'I can be your sunshine',
Her words oozed tenderness,
As she caressed my hair.

I can be your sunshine, 
A kiss she planted, as she faded.
'Sunshine, through your darkest clouds.'

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

[Two Song Poem] The Burnout Syndrome

'Who, reigns longer, chaos or misery?',
The question did  raise an eyebrow or two,
But adamant I was about the question,
An answer just a forethought to all the lies.

Do you feel it in your nerves, an urge to quit early,
Do you feel it burn your senses, in the dreamless sleeps.

'Chaos', I answered, she smiled, a smirk,
The battle is just about to begin, she pondered,
As she swung around in her childish prologues,
'I wish I knew the answer', sigh, all I could gather.

It ticks deep now, the clock of uncertainty,
It ticks deep, I should quit, the voice echoes.

Time is an illusion, I lie to myself,
Every step, a mechanical clockwork,
'Chaos, is life', I sigh to my self,
She laughs, mocking me to my core.

'Knock, knock', she says, a childish giggle,
I know its a joke, but 'Whose there?', I reply.

At last, she gets up, 'the game's up', she says,
'I am bored, and I need a new lie to live',
Empty, is that what I feel, searching in me,
'A new lie i need', She says, as she walks away.

I am stranded in an Island of lies, I see her walk away,
I am stranded in an Island, I see my life walk away.

The burn out Syndrome
(Songs Played Together)
Song 1: Arriving somewhere but not here
Song 2: Melodic Death Metal / Metalcore Mix

Thursday, February 8, 2018

Will I know Her Pain

The blue of the night, reflected, precise, I do say, her eyes,
Her face drawn in a little frown, I guess, I can play a part in her games.

The angel who saw life depart,  as her wings were clipped,
Caught in an inter-twined truth, I play a part in her tears.

Life was just a little hidden treat, a ball mask, to be forgotten,
As the night settles deep, I see her blue eyes moisten.

My little dream, she blossomed,  she withered with the sun,
Dreams written on a page, I wish I could paint them pretty.

Purple bled the canvas, as the wings re-grew,
A fraction of an eon, they did stay, then fade at dawn.

Fate was a cruel joke, a celestial ploy, she would sigh,
A hug, a kiss, was that all I could gather, was that all I could give.

I saw her bloom, I saw her fade, I saw her grow, I saw her age,
I saw the little dreams blossom, I saw the dreams turn to nightmares.

But, till the end, I was unable to feel her pain.

Friday, February 2, 2018

The Club of the Unfortunate

He cleared his throat, as he raised the toast,
'To my fellow members', his sound coughed,
'I raise this toast, to the fellow unfortunate'.

The new guy smiled, shying from the prying eyes,
He knew his misfortunes, Lady luck was busy,
As his creditors played the devil's advocate to his wealth.

'We are a rare breed', the toastmaster continued,
'Our purple robes have faded to a crimson red',
'Lets welcome our new member', he raised, an applause.

His smile turned to a blush, as he squirmed to the corner,
The Cornish eyes judged his new found wealth,
The Cornish eyes judged his newly lost wealth.

'I am a deadbeat', his voice cracked as he raised his drink,
The crowd cheered him, drowning him in judgement,
'I have gambled, I am the prodigal son'.

'I have a house, half claimed by my habits',
'A life which I live for the unfortunate in me',
'And a mansion, ridden with lies', he sighed.

'Lets be grateful for the misfortunes we have',
He ended his toast speech, reclaimed his throne,
The throne of the many kings of misfortune.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Chronicles of Lady Death - Countess Of Death

"Why should I fear death?
If I am, then death is not. If Death is, then I am not.
Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not?..." - Epicurus

Youth, the fountain of joy, yet thee evade my grasp,
Youth, the lust of freedom, born out of a divine lie.

The blood of the un-bled, I hope is my cure,
As I lay, parched from within, yet wet to my core,
Crimson stains, they refuse to wash off.

Youth, the forbidden truth, suckling on death.
Youth, Edith's worry, a mystical piece of jewel.

Here I grow old, time my foe, it grows, it wriggles, 
Scarred by time, I wrinkle, shrivel, yet 
Thee oh my love, I bathe in, as I inch closer to death

Youth, the unquenchable thirst, hope of death,
Youth, thou the lavish fantasy of men.

I have bathed a million times, yet time wins,
Time my foe, since I first knew love,
You will wither, he said, a kiss his farewell.

Youth, the unfound treasure, I yern for thee,
Youth, behold your mistress, make me yours.

They stand at my gate, a hundred deaths upon me,
They stand to judge, I wash my hands in blood,
I am yours, Oh fable of the victorious.

I am yours my love, and in death we shall be one.

Elizabeth Báthory

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Night Train to Velli

Amid the tight glances, I stood,
Steadfast, a word less searched for,
By the foot hold of the last wagon,
Of the Queen as she chugged through.

Black clouds rose in the night sky,
Moon and stars blanketed by her gurgling smog,
Each cloud a plumage of the night bird, fluffy coal candies.

The ride was long, I was told,
I ignored, rather enjoyed the rumble,
The tics and taks on the metal rail,
As the wheels echoed on, into the darkness.

An amber shone bright in the distance,
And the Queen started the long screech,
Pungent whiff of her diesel fog,  her engines coma-ed.

My fears grew roots, As the queen halted,
The amber turned to red, gale birthed a gentle breeze,
The smell of screeching metal fumed the night air,
The Queen had stoped her righteous stride.

I alighted the royal gait, stepping into the cold sand,
The red turned to green, but miles away was I,
My legs, my chariots, fear my fuel.

The Queen started her slow chug, the royal march,
The faint echo of her wail, annoyance it did speak,
I heard her slow rumble, as she regained her posture,
But miles away I was from her, moon my witness.

My captors turned red in her bosom, as she chugged,
Their sleep played the Judas in the grand scheme,
I felt the cold sand beneath my feet, freedom I guess.

I do feel pity for the gallows waiting for me,
The lonely little hoops, but what is mercy to me,
As I ran to the freedom, and the Queen conquered new shores.