Wednesday, 23 January, 2008

Master of the game

Like a wanderer in this frenzied world
Walking along the path of the nomad
A spirit held tight, and the face all wrought
Dragging along to the end of the world
To reach a destination so mystical
The crawling now gives birth to a limp

Dark shadows eclipse the reflections
Of the wicked master of the game
Disappearing into an abode of dreams
While nightmares are the color he spreads
An illusion blown away to mere dust
An illusion never to be seen, never heard

The sea, heavy with tides, dark and deep
The four sides wrapping warmth within
Dark steely nights to glorious golden dawns
Magnificent greens to the dithering clouds in grey
This is where you breathe, this is your life
Rest while you can, for your journey has just begun.


MERCY! said...

awesome baby .. i stoped writing dark poetry .. now ur mastering .. hats off guru

Pointblank said...

hey there! good one! u have a sportive vocab!

~Blindreck~ said...

@ mercy...
yeah babe... getting darker and darker... but i kinda brought light into this one... did u get it??

@ point
thanks babe...

Anonymous said...

I am not a big fan of dark poetry, but for this, I am ok with the fact that you have tried to find a positive spin at the end.

Piece of my mind: If this emotional spiral continues, it will one day consume you for sure.. If there is a sanity-check here and there.. I am cool.

My 2 cents.

-Santo a.k.a "Lucifer"

~Blindreck~ said...

@ lucifer
absolutely cool with ur comment! ur rite... as long as there's some sanity left, its better... as long as this sanity keeps returning that is!