Chaos is a ticking time bomb negating freedom inside your cynical head. Quintessence of absolute destruction. Tik-tok, Tik-tok, Tik-tok as the unpredictability of time moves backwards, words internally bleeds on the dampened floors like ubiquitous metaphors which are one step closer to the imminent verge of an extinction. You can now hear the weakening pulse of your poem escaping the darkest nights of transcendental metamorphosis.
Some s(ink) too deep in the fractional amount of gravitational whirlpools when meditation is a spontaneous believe that there exist only one remedy for survival. But you are a landmine of thoughts waiting for somebody to step on you. Alas…sometimes a mere explosion can lead to a sacramental salvation. Black in you is a prisoner of the past who dare to love the unreadable colours of remorseful rainbows.
Are we suicidal bombers who are ready to die along with poetry when others read us. Then what is the role of madness to sustain this horrendous fate? The incoherent beauty that prevents the fueled emotions is really a torture. But how can a broken river betray a dying sea? Maybe the world need to die twice to become an another realm in this greed and cowardice. The realisation comes with a price when death is a matter of unoccupied time which leaves no footprints behind at the end of our miniscule existence.
Do you know the difference between humans and animals? In animals, males have a shorter lifespan. This is because the raised meat will eventually fall off the head infront of a sharp knife. On the other hand, if you look at human beings, it is the women who are always oppressed and disturbed in this imbecilic society. But in the evil thoughts that mold the brains of immorality, isn’t she just like the animal who surrenders at the point of the knife for raw meat?
The duality of this life cannot be balanced when slaughtering become an art of synthetic adventure. Some people are machines invented for pain and some others are just clowns smiling in monotonous tragedies. The magnified versions of time had taught that a bruised imagination and a throbbing heart cannot achieve totalitarianism.
The depressed stars cannot make the sky shine brighter. But the suppressed sky can only make ‘forget-me-not’ stars. Gender equality is a parabola of Halley’s comet invading the macroscopic awareness of the beholder in every 75 years when the vestibules of eternity transforms into an impossibility. But isn’t life an attenuating aftermath of perfect chaos? You cannot enjoy the process of living unless change is never immune when sealed truth become terrific lies of sunsets.
There is this unpredictability that spills out from the universe of surreptitious pride which is three times heavier than your soul. But how can someone romanticize the soul-less beauty of fragmentary illusions in this complex environmental circumstances? What if silence is a contaminated mourn when momentary relief dressed in haunting distress? if your head starts to think about change.. light upon the light of enlightenment ..then the freedom is all your’s.. your move….
©𝓡𝓪𝓱𝓾𝓵
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