Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time:

People used to be passionate,

Sentimentality ran through our veins.

But now another ‘S’ has conspired,

Leaving our soppiness bound by chains.

We used to pick what film to watch-

With excitement!

Now we just ask how long it is,

Relishing the thought of it being less

Than 90 minutes.

We used to go on long walks;

The thought of a picnic was thrilling.

But soon we learnt that walks weren’t fun,

There was something more fulfilling.

Once upon a time:

People are crude, impassive and indifferent

Disinterest runs through our veins

All because that ‘S’ has empowered,

Even our memory foam has forgotten.

So what chance do we have?

Night Out

We spend the day dreaming

Of intoxication;

Anticipating a break from significance

And welcoming triviality-

When nothing can possibly matter.

We try to make ourselves look beautiful,

And when that fails-

We drink.

And as the music deafens our ears,

We fall into a wonderful stance,

A place where absolutely nothing matters.

But this stance I speak of- so premature!

And soon things quickly turn to manure,

Because what we love can turn to hate,

A vivacious start, a dismaying fate

Things start to matter.

People begin to reapply their perfumes

And aftershaves; with seeping, pungent

Odious smells.

As smiles turn to cries,

And our mouths fill with mire,

Should we have been satisfied with water?

We return to the world-

Shovels at the ready,

And we scoop and divide up the shit.

Then

Suddenly,

Everything matters. 

Demise

I’m the shadow in the darkness,

That ruthlessly yearns for your

Demise

I work cunningly; but callously.

Gritting my teeth at signs of elation,

Because: the joy

 Scares me- should I grasp my torch?

And shine destruction upon your utopia.

Maybe I should- because I the decrepit

Finds your happiness repulsive-

The intense darkness;

You may hear subtle cries

As a merciless loner plans your demise

Window

Transparently gloomy; there looms an abyss,

An encapsulating ignorance,

Compels the confessed,

They’re spoon-fed and they choke;

They romanticize the window,

To conceal from reality

And shield from below

She projects the shadows; under false duress,

They live in what ‘could’

And end up with less,

A peak of expectations- the others

Witness them waste,

Some feel placid,

Others distaste.

The window will crack,

And your dreams will implode

You shall not rise, but disintegrate

As your body erodes