in a reality otherwise we could have been in love
together happily ever after
where forevers were longer and love was the only quotient to survive wedlocks
the teaks and the termites
breathed ashes off the crumbling pages of a forged yesterday
and gnawed their skin into the dead meat and crippled spine of a delusional nation and the disillusioned lives that inhabited
shook souls
calloused hands sunken in the blood trails of a hundred slain chimera
heartaches healed between cigarettes and sex
lives spent in coal, tar and an inexpensive mirth of stenched liquor
and the single malignant thought of anarchy
it takes a lot many deaths and a lot more dungeons to poetry
hedon ran for life that fall
cutting through the blue skin of the skies
bricks for bones
metal in veins
mortals bled mortar
beneath the flesh of plastered walls
love stories are gory
and you thought roses were red in love?
blood on the hands
blood on the thorns
an affair so bloody that could put wars to shame
and yet we all become but scapegoats to the very idea of love
the more we realise the dawn of an imminent death
the deeper we drown in the quicksands of time
you ask why?
we are nihilists
loathed in an erotic desire of self annihilation
why do you think
over and over and over again
pondering over the thousand absurd tales you call possibilities
imagining monsters and living hell in every nightmare of yours
thoughts are not the answers to the questions that keep you awake
between living the questions is where you find your answers