The Black Hole

IT was the demon in her
And the Satan in her stars
The evil of all hell and earth
And of the heavens afar.

It was within a you and me
And in the deepest lake and sea
The fire that shook the highest peak
All sages of whom did once speak.

It was a formless silhouette
That rose and faded into thin air
An apparition, a ghost-an illuminating light
Yet not visible to the naked eye.




IT was the conqueror of all kings
Of every man, woman and child
Not bounded by forces of any dimension
The true master of death and time.

For it was death-and time-and life
The paramount immortal essence
The driving force of past and present
The keeper of fates and hence...

It was the demon in her
And yet an inspiration
The passion of her mind
And her heart's sensation.




IT was the seed of desire
From which fueled every fire
From which grew endless cycles
From which rose lovers-rivals.

From which sprang every storm
The reason for every calm
From which stemmed wish and want
All dreary illusions that haunt...

The strange paradox being
'Tis but the only truth
The wisdom of all ages, with
The gleaming beauty of youth.

The Mirage

And it seems to me, that the struggles of life are infinite. Not only infinite, but pointless. The fight to prove your mettle. Don't you see.. it's a trap!
Oh I am sorry, did I hurt your wounds of those tough times? I didn't mean to belittle you, or your gallery of valor. But you would never believe me, for it always seems worthy. After all, history remembers the victors.
I apologize again to be the one to break this illusion of yours. If you think you've annihilated all your pain with one blow of victory, know that it's a bait. Soon you will realize that there's another battle waiting. The real war, is never over.
Suffering is continuous and never ending.

If life was a voyage to a far off land, then each struggle would be a ripple in the sea.
As your boat floats forward with fancy force, though not swiftly, the ripples follow.
You see the waves, enormous - uniform - seamless, trying to overpower you with the winds on their side. They reach for infinity, as far as the eye can see - crawling towards the horizon, where the sun of hope is slowly drowning. You think you can count them, perhaps you try, but it's useless, they are too many.

And so this was life. Ripples of hardships, no matter how fast you move, these waves of struggle never end, keep following. And yet, the sea, the sunsets, the sky and it's stars and all of these beautiful things unconquerable by man, become the only escape from the sea sickness... somehow making you feel like there's some minuscule joy even in conquering a single wave. Awakening a false hope that the voyage would finally end, that there was a destination - an island, where a treasure of gold was waiting to be found. That there was a point to this utter madness... that life itself, held some meaning. Oh, how nature tricks us into becoming pirates, uncanny and remarkable.

The Life Cycle of the Ordinary Homo Sapien

You were young and restless
Passionate and reckless
Naive and emotionally high
In pursuit of ecstasy
To love and live
And breathe and die
And experience intimacy
Of knitted hearts
And teared apart
Of stitches and wounds
And scars and pain
And sadness and ends;

And beginnings and gain
And forgetting losses
Of trusting again
Plunging out into eternity
Into a world of fantasy
And time and again
Those shocks
Trying to bring you back
To where you perhaps belong
When the Murphy's Law decide's to have its way
And you lie, "It's gonna be okay".