Snow

It's getting cold now,
and the trembling trees know it.

They cling onto their leaves,
but it won't be long before they too have to go.
The struggling sighs against icy winds have died,
and only faint whispers echo in the valley below.

It's getting late now,
and the flocking crows know it.

The panicked beating of desperate wings
a warning on the forest floor;
Streaks of pink shine through the empty sky
as the shivering sun crawls back into the ground.

We're getting lost now,
And my stumbling feet know it.

The moonless night and the misty woods slow us,
but the crickets don't pierce your ears and you show it.
I stagger through cracks, snapping jagged twigs back,
Fall mindless on the sullen earth,
And begin to dig.

Fotoshop Phun

I'm actually beginning to use photoshop thanks to Digital Media class. Anyway here is some artwork that I did for a friend's band (Escher's Knot from Chennai), and another one I did for my own project. Don't know if I'll be using it now, what with the new band and everything.

After Effect

Another one is programmed
To proclaim the world
Beneath the darkened sun.
It saturates the system
Striking at the core
Always watching you.

The unity of internal conflict,
The dissolution aimed at reason,
Control of all real meaning
Veils all that you see.

Complicity over capacity
You pass up on your soul
Regulating, Calculating
Let them at your soul

Consumed by dependency
Fabricating a sense of belonging
Death is only the beginning
I am the after effect.

Autumn Hate

*It has been quite a while since i updated this blog.
This is stuff i've written over some time.*

A nervous glance in the mirror
Light, gaze beyond soft eyes
But light cannot shine through
The mask of sanity upon
My face which frightens
Me and the consciousness
Which pours from my mind
Like a river of knives

Such a self-indulgent stream
Feeds itself, returns to the source
Now an ocean of fear, lust, and warm blood
And fear which is mine
And yours, and everywhere
Begging never, then never again
Then no more

It grows in unison
With screams, cries, and a clawed face
I watch the puddles gather crimson rain
And fear again for myself

Look away
Eyes turn black
It's raining now
It's angry now, clawing its way out
My mind of knives and disoriented meaning
Clings to the frightful similarities, wondering
Of what am I capable?
And then I shove the sun onto the light
The silence comes
My freedom comes from inside
I answer
And I reach out
For the Surface.

And through this, comforts beckons me
Half of me smiles back with hope.
While the other, with bloodlust, whistles innocently
And laughs sardonically
With our mouth.
And we cannot,
Even as I try,
Reach out
For the Surface.

Dreaded. Born.

*For everyone who lost a piece of themselves on 26/11/2008, this is for you*

Face to face with the dark eternal night,
All I see is the negative space ,
The shape of the landscape at their back,
And the horizon interrupted by black.
Symmetrical on both sides, like a backwards vase,
A deranged maze all covered in bloody snow,
It could be one, or it could be more than one layer.
Foreground and background and everything in between,
But the hole in the middle I cannot relate to.
The positive life right in front of me,
Like a mirror tiled over that gives no reflection,
Face to face with a fear,
We share no affection.

Binding Lies

All you have are three words
Have you said enough?
Weak and watered thoughts
Have run the machine.
A revelation.
Deceit was uncommon
Futility indeed to hope
That under the guise of love
We could survive this.
Detached I watch and pray
Not knowing that the victim is I
And still your curses are venomed
With anger and greed,
Ribald with binding lies.
Will you hold me until the dawning light?
And I'll tell you
With every second just slipping away
What it's like to die
At the hands of a life once found
Of a love once loved.

Death of Flame

A fire has gone cold.
Behind sepia glaze hang empty branches
Amidst a barren field.
Dense fog shrouds an empty tree while
Soliloquizing about comforting falling branches
In their final, fleeting moments.

A fire has gone cold.
Her lips are filled with autumn.
The last lies from the mockingbirds
Spiral from them;
Deserting the lips to chap
The bitter climate to come.

A fire has gone cold.
Crimson warmth of summers past.
Transforms into neutrality,
Into grey.
Into bitter tastes of lukewarm decisions,
Trapped inside her breast.

She's alone, void, and dormant.
Today she'll die to prepare.
Taking solace in life's seasons
And the ideal
That just one solstice from now,
She'll bloom.