Tuesday, 25 November 2014

What if?

I can tell you all I've seen in a single blur of emotions,
rushing out with adrenaline filled with devotion.
Devotion for the cause my vision realizes,
And of all the daily demise and compromises.
Beyond those lie the shimmer of the shiny white wine,
With clouds forming in the sky, 
with that silver line.

It's hard, much harder than i thought it would be,
but the truth is that you don't just give up.
You don't just let the wind guide, 
you're supposed to become a part of it, sail.
 But when it's not in the direction you want to go,
That's when the whistle you're supposed to blow!
And that's when you can turn your ship.
Gather your strength.
Row, row, row your boat.
Do not let the weight float.
It's the burden that you've carried,
You've had it all along.

Shove it off your ground,
loosen up the surface.
Carry yourself only,
you're the only one you can chase.
It's not a race,
But its not even just one face.
It's a thousand stories,
and this one's yours.
Look behind the scars,
Look beyond the flaws.
There's beauty everywhere,
And anywhere it can be seen.
It's the kind of experience that you've already been.

Do you feel like you're alive?
Do you feel like you're breathing?
Do you feel like there's someone inside you teasing?
Do you feel like there's another chance, 
To romance or to entrance?
Do you feel like there's a show coming?
Do you feel the notes of the chords you're strumming?

It's simple nature, 
we're just another creature,
we look up to one another,
involve our hearts with one or the other.
Along with it comes belonging,
a hope to live on,
But there is none that tells us,
if there will be sunlight in the dawn.
With what we carry in us,
comes responsibility and trust,
with what we marry to,
joining a life or two.
It's not easy, nothing is.
Alone or together,
Both have their own bliss.

My question is just one.
What happens when there are none.
Now i can't feel you,
and i can't feel myself.
Then what's next?
From what?

What happens when the cycle shifts?
The weather, the time, the gravity itself?
Anything can be said about it.
Worldly or just to yourself.
What happens when there is shelter,
Yet you learn to live in helter skelter?
Constant deviation from norm,
It's like becoming the storm.
Chaos that is beautiful.
To create it, for it to be dissolved.
Made by us, destroyed by us.
In the name of purpose.
It's a shallow truth,
Yet we've devoted it all our youth.
After all the earth has to spin,
For time and relativity to begin.
Then comes gravity,
And you understand it's weight.
There's nothing to it, yet you're held to this ball.

How would you find floating in space?
Nothing to hold on to?
Nothing to stand upon.
Hours and years of endless information.
Infinite sources.
That's a tricky one.
Because when you say infinite,
It means there is no end.
There is no beginning.
No axis on which something may be spinning.
Then there's paradise.
Call it heaven, call it hell.
Everything happens in the instant.
There's nothing to delay or enhance it.

You can try it.
Think about a grape.
Turn it into wine.
Now drink it up.
Think of you as you're divine.
Now close your eyes.
Begin to breathe.
Imagine you're a chord.
A strand between two surfaces.
Now cut it.
Let those two be free.
What do you get.

I have an insight.
Did you realize there is no connection anymore.
But the chord didn't vanish.
Now we have two loose ends.
Floating in space.
Starting from nowhere,
Ending into nowhere.

What is it in my words that you stare?
Don't make faces, don't roll your eyes.
This is just a disguise.
I don't mean much,
I just forgot to eat lunch.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Let the assassin jump into the hay.
He needs a place to hide from the guards,
He needs a place to become a shadow visible in the dark,
Yap, yap, yap.
Nothing funny about it.
I know. 
Look outside, it's going to snow.
Oh wait where were you?

Did you forget all you just thought about?
Or maybe you didn't.
Who knows and who would care.
It's just another stare.
Stand naked, bare.
You've got much to lose.

What is real? how do you define real?
If you're talking about what you can see,
What you can smell,
What you can taste or touch.
Is that real?
The artist who can change the very fabric of reality.
The person who can see the reality change.
One can even sense the reality present.
If there is any.

Together, they are reality.
How do you define it?
See you.

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  1. light is the stain, a ball without a chain

    thank you