Shadows Of Dishevelled Fates

Shadows Of Dishevelled Fates
Distorted shadows
of my naked soul
Untouched and chaste;
Dance beneath the remains
of my love
by the darkness.
Demons smiled
at the silent auction of my dreams
bidding highest in favor of catastrophes
meant for quenching the thirst
of dormant volcanoes,
awaiting to erupt
from the burns of my throat,
blood dripping out of my veins
while pain
crawls between the cracks of bones.
Thanks to our ancestors
for inventing single malt,
I have drowned in them
to get rid of your uncertainties,
I have kissed strangers
to get rid of your taste from my lips,
I have stopped writing poems
to get rid of metaphors,
that survived every war
between my silence and words,
finally end in a massacre
each time I try to make sense;
of premature change of seasons,
of misery underneath our corpses,
of residues of dishevelled fates and,
the art of unloving full moon nights.
The fear that lingers
in the mix of dust and mist,
between hope and qualm,
keeps coming back to remind me
of your haunting presence under my bruised skin
slit at places you had touched,
in an attempt to dismember
each cell of you entangled around the dermis.
I am not trying
to end it all,
just seeking resilience;
the labyrinth of life, you see!
Do you still
look at the sky
and search for Venus,
while puffing the leftovers from your cigarette?


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