The Broken Prism

Confined within a small room

He silently weeps,

Tears rolling down the burning cheeks,

Mind riddled with fear,

Too weak to stand,

Fear of being lost, restrained to loneliness

He stays, born of pain,

Too scared of the darkness, he longs for light,

And deep within him the darkness grew

Tormenting the soul,

Burning him slowly,

For nothing reflects his true self,

As deep within him

Lay suppressed, a scorching monster.

And then finally he stands

His trembling knees now stronger,

Eyes frozen, mind empty,

Anger became his fuel to embark upon the pain,

He tries to see his reflection

For long, he has been hidden,

He couldn’t recall what he looked like,

For these days of darkness has to end,

The monster within revealing itself

In his eyes, the anger rose,

And he breaks the nightmare’s hold

For the first glimpse of light,

Leaving behind his confinement

Into an unknown world, he walks.

The Forged Identity

And he too painted his face

In shades of white and red,

Forgetting somewhere the enchanted grace

A smile for his ugly facade –  

Running after a dream

An empty frame of infamy,

For hate triumphed and reasons shed

The punishment of a sin;

For he build walls against his wishes

But nothing could fortify the fragile,

As he weeps deep within

Solely among his inner self,

A self he could no longer conceive

For he wears a mask to deceive

A shattered heart none could see;

And then he gulps down, the last drink,

Harnessing his fury, he gallops on his horse

To a far, a very far land,

Where he could easily cry

Far away from where no one could see,

Yet his soul suffers, urges a return,

Looking deep into his lonely heart, he sees,

A disgraceful life;

An instance he made of it,

And the rain comes falling down

Weakening the intoxication,

Revealing the real self, devastating the forged identity,
Fading away the fake smile gently…

Heart of Stone

And they say he sculpted his heart out of stone,

A stone, he became on rage,

A rage born of an unrequited love,

Shattered and dismantled picture frame remains,

Misery and pain of an undaunted age,

Where silent screams conserve

Into a shadow, hatred defies kind domains.

Trapped among the thick mist of sadness

And blinded by the dusk of his past

He wanders, a lost soul,

The tears have been frozen

And the wound no longer bleeds,

For all that he was left with scatter within

Remain broken and betrayed.

Holding on to a dream,

The echo of a long forgotten memory clings

To his blank vision and deaf icy ears,

Emotionless he walks towards the darkness

For the shadow of the forgotten

Had built the pain inside his heart

That slowly has been ripped apart.

Left alone in his thoughts and sorrow

To be a fraction of the lost,

He outrageously craved a new self,

A self he was never meant to be,  

Destined to be a part of the rock

He hammered one to be his own part

Solely convict love within a stone heart.

Shadow of the Forgotten

Been in the storm, a year too long,

Lonely and cold the wind blows,

The rain drops reminding of the conjured memories

Tormenting the bruised soul –

This night of incessant writhing downpours hatred

Of the love that once betrayed the heart

Shattered and ripped, a new wound gaped,

The bleeding never stops

For the wound has been sculpted over again;

And it seems there’s no escape

From this defying misery and pain,

Stuck in a maze of sadness

Where serenity never reigns,

As fate stares straight to the condemned darkness

And nothing left to forfeit the pain.

Living in a world of dreams where nothing exists

Except the numbness that plagues my mind,

The words fell on deaf ears

And not a pulse beats the same,

Dying slowly, day by day within,

Poisonous tears drowning your sin,
Beholding pieces of shattered frames

Conjuring into a turmoil of maddening bind,

Convicted in a prison of your thoughts

I shudder in a cocoon of hurtful remains,

Resign myself from this pain forever more

For once let me live and free my half dead soul.

Stained Reflection

Shattered in heart and trampled in spirit

Yet surviving the scorching of the soul,

Numbness plaguing the infinite mind

Into a prison, convicted within my own thoughts,

Screaming an outrage, a silent cry,

For nights hid my darkness and days condole,

A mockery so disgraceful;

“Who are you?” She demands,

A bulge; the reflection of your cruel mind,

Cold eyes and numb lips

Speaks of my silent existence,

For I see, yet I am vacant,

Suffocating; yet breathing,

Infiltrating into an edge unknown,

Stained tears, harder to erase,

No words to comfort, solemn loneliness,

Bruised and scarred in skin,

A new definition to your sin,

Into a sculpted road of turmoil and pain,

Chasing a love, never to regain,

And slowly slide further, an inevitable madness.