Sunday, 5 February, 2012

Living to Die

Stoned he laid at that staircase
Where the feet never marched, only dragged
With heavy heart and body’s weight
He pushed himself towards darkness

Every breath that went in was just air
Every sip of water, mere pours
Each bite of food meant a thing down mouth
That pierced the walls of his throat

Two eyes looked at him, they laughed
Two eyes looked at him, they cried
Two eyes looked at him, they yelled
Two eyes left him cleaving wry

They were his own, venturing a quest
To excavate himself from the labyrinth of life
As he doped himself to madness
With every breath he took, even more he died

Anger and pain the only consciousness
Everything else, remained a blur
The benumbed senses kept shouting for him
But he chose against the will to shut his ears

An alter ego stretched arms to life
The other towards madness, calling him paranoid
He shouted, pulled hair shook the woman on his right
The mother stood numb seeing her son lost in void

He slapped his girl as she fell across the room
He pulled her hair and raped her savagely
The woman lay astray and hanged herself to death
Her man was a monster who did her heedlessly

The madness killed everything humanly
A beast now lived for a kill
To vent the anger down his throat
He doped a little more, he doped against his will

Knowing what he did, he still couldn’t live
Without the forbidden drug that consumed him in entirety
He smoked up more, exploiting himself
To escape a voice that unlashed the beast

They disowned him and sent him to rehab
For months he shouted and then succumbed to silence
He lays there stoned still, not of the drug that anesthetised
But of madness that whipped in him anger and violence
And of insanity that had now deprived him of a life
In madness he lives, in madness he will die

Unaware of a self, unaware of his deeds
He tears his cloak, gapes to breathe
Looks at the world that drove him to madness
And now calls him a filthy beastly mess
Oblivious of a body that carries his soul
The mirror too now had turned oblique
What remains is only pain
That tears his flesh excruciatingly

Wasted he lies there, stoned away from life
Unaware of a self, living to die.



  2. "With every act of self-exploitation
    With every inch he thought he got closer to death
    With every sickening moment of loathe
    He ravaged his own life, smuggled his breath.

    In anxiety what's lost
    In pain he gained
    In life he set to fire
    In vain, he awaited end."

    Having poured in the after-effects of reading this marvelous piece of art, I am amazed how you came up with this lethal dark poem. Change is always good, heard that. Been there, done that. But a reverse gear shift of this kind is Brilliant. Congrats, u won me all over again. Mmuah..

  3. what was done to him was monstrous. and it created a monster.

    lovely. mind blowing.

  4. Words fall short! Any adjective that I can think of, it's like, a piece of nothing. Oh! You get the drift. Don't you? :*
    And, so, I love you all the more! <3 Like I said earlier, You're a pen-paper ninja! <3

  5. Wow! funny how a person's split personalities emerge out when stoned. :l

    beautifully written!

    id love it if you visited my blog. maybe we could follow each other. :)

  6. U r awesome priyanka......completely fell in love with ur art.