Sullen Darkness

 

image credits- Pinterest

From a dark hole, no light can be seen.
Darkness eats darkness, to produce more of it.
Sustenance in the trunk of tree
or sustenance in the thunderstorms
will make your body and mind a living zombie
Caricatures shall be burned
smokes, ashes and grave.
Floating fingers, aerial flaps of thigh
hunting red eyes, covetous palm
For jealousy is a disease
In the blues of water,
poke your dizzy reflection— what do you see?
Take a conscious step further,
graphite earthworms shall stick to your sole,
paralysis of mind, paralysis of the heart,
Sickness will eat you like a fire spread
Dead trees also cool down, after the smoke is extinguished.

©My Valiant Soul

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Dark- Tea-Tales

image credits- Mary Cassatt

Come sit, have a cup of the black tea, I prepared.
The story is long for your forlorn heart would claim the pain in a moment or two.
The chain I talk today, oh, sorrow is diabolical.
So frugal, barbarous.
The inside of my heart left the colonies of fairy dust as if.
As I cross my wrist, hear the crackle of the bone.

The crackle of my solitude.
lit in my eyes,
blazing
the burning glaze you see,
the dilapidating music you hear,
come sit, have another cup of the black tea.
The ruckus runs through my dry skin, joining dots on my skin,
creating shambles like a dead corpse
creating paradox.
The arms extend late nights to grab a bottle of comfort, you see?
The comfort — a meadow, oh, the sweet meadow.
Peace like the ravishing Orchids, white nature.
Yes, the soft feather stating, gorgeous wings, infinite joyous tales to discover.
Oh, you finished the tea, wish a refill?
For this soul can say the darkest of the chronicles,
like the flowing wishful, the evergreen Ganges.

©My Valiant Soul

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This state of Reality

choke the cool breeze into my harsh reality

for I belong to the bricks of the wall

the screech of my language, wrapped in the tongue of anatomy

producing dark curtains, throttling small rooms

the lines of my palms remain  a false alarm

haywire sky, haywire mind

I could hear my slow breaths now disappearing like the cold drizzle

insomnia.

Insensate, dead.

Lost in the murky woods, cutting my own throat

chopping my own sanguine state

chop, chop, chop, chop

And then lying as dark, pale, dust.

-MYVALIANTSOUL

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My Poetry is Dark

 

image credits- Pinterest

 

Tonight, I shall rip my mind
bifurcating like thin veins
for I see hot wax resting
on my body,
for I am lips and lips of shooting fire
tonight, I shall cry
and vomit my parched pain
like shattered poppies
lying in the coffin
for dark is my home
dark is my poetry
the inside of poetry is me,
and I am dark as Satan’s eye.

©My Valiant Soul

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Scars

 

 

 

image credits- Pinterest

 

Beyond this cracking wall, in the horizon of that empty dusk,
I walk in the blues of protrusion of my floral cheeks
my mind scratched, my heart stabbed
A partition of a falling star and constellation of stars
a Meraki of a paper boat, if you know
I walk in unknown thorns, small, oval, sweet and bitter
if bitterly waves reside in this moment, I shall conjure my body
with naked dust
And that dust will still hurt my iris,
for my eyes has seen the deep red scar

© My Valiant Soul

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Drop dead beauty.

My flaky fingers hold my hope like the sacrosanct dusk, the better is my mind with the fall leaves, the turpid pick of the smoke, pulling strings impeccably, wretched you say?oh, I am just a maniac wandering on the ebb of tyranny, turbulence and war see the pattern?It’s beautiful though dark.

The puzzles cut my thumb,scars all over the white skin,
nourishing I call it
Jasmine, fresh flowers
the brutality spreads now in my eccentric jovial mind
straight in the pond of sinking lips
the pond of dropping diamonds.

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Dark howl

I am no summer breeze. Neither I am a warm blanket to provide that yearning, surreal warmth.
My own soul is shivering, heart sees cracks here and there, Irrevocable my tears are on this pillow.
Fierce, ghost-like shadows perching on my knee joints,
It hurts. It hurts my paradise dreams.
And you say I am ignorant about the moon and its dark howl.

Promises

I remember that warm greet you gave me

in the cold chilly winters,

that hug you gave defined your inexplicable puerile love,

You promised to be the summer flower in my numb chilled thought,

You intrigued the new definition of allegiance

promised to be a gazing blur on the window of my heart

Entranced by your words of humility, I stepped onto the bridge of fidelity

a bridge of flowers leading to a bubbling valentine house,

promises is what I have in the hollow of my palm

I choose to hold it ,embrace it

whirl and churn your breaths into my pale blood

So that you may know one day, what all I craved for.

Wild

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trivial issues get reverence, 

vital people ignored

the state of mind has lost its intoxication,

oh! I miss being the wild one around.

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Dark-deep-cage.

I hear screech in my abdominal muscle

Lurking deep in my vanity of thoughts

My pillow talks the tales of absorbed tears

The white cover unravelling the bites, the thorns of forlorn chants

The crooked walls of my space shall direct the cave in my eyes

Deep, dark, lost all at once

My tongue feels the pinch as wound inflicted on a tree

I know the cuts, mincing of cherry tomato

Plucking of leaves, trimming the bush

Removing filth, shaking dust

Piling the dead flowers

Even if they wish to dip into the brutality of a numb cracked flooring of a dead house.

And I lie there, tongue-tied,

Stroking arrows of horror, the array of thunderbolts uptight on my white thighs

Watching it turn blue, darker blue and absurdly

All black.

A faded star

 

Ventilation bursts my shout outside the hole

the frontal lobe of pain puts the pain on

the clamour  my dark pink lipstick

the soil declining to wake me up

Tug of war.

A lie in my pharynx.

the knuckles of my hand

like the cover of a coconut from my backyard

Hard yet soft

Veracity lies in the mouth of wise old man

I hear, the squawk, tearing off the beetle leaf

in the innermost layer of my earlobe

the faint smell of roses striking  off

the underlying scintillating pieces of star

Explosions I hear,

Darkening the repetitions, sketching my  faded outline

with the black soil, no fertility I apprehend.

 

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