Weathered Diaries

i am but a puny allegory, unbeknownst of a man's glory. Shrouded in an unrelenting conflict, a lost cause left derelict. Beautiful paradigm of uncertainty, a malady of enigmatic absurdity. If thou seek, thou shall be found, take a flight and yet shall be bound. I hath the universe; it has me, hypothesise your existence; I shall be....

As the sky maliciously growls, he now stealthily prowls. The foliage rustles underneath, ache dripping off her sheath. Daintiest deshabille knocks him out raw with desire, he shouts. Storm rages and thunder rumbles, she advances and only stumbles. A rustic pagan dance ensued, their hearts in turn consumed. Tease gives way to pull and tug, clothes disheveled in the rug. Prayers offered in screams, lest their souls be unredeemed.

This poem is dedicated to my love who is both disturbed and in awe of the death and  respects life and the living dearly. In the wild garb of unpredict ability, death stealthily lingers still. A liaison of existential and the conjectural, a n embellished and an irrevocable truth. There is a vision in my eye, a vacuum over my mind that  everything shall vanish like a breeze. Memories shrivelled to scroll days as black as the night, nights a cold as the ice. Mid this strife of the predicament, silently condemned to doom to worst of fate. The pain soon wrings out your soul and dear earth no more shall be. Thereafter you rise from an eternal agony to your favourite place, at your home;that's your heaven. You hear muffled voice, see faces familiar,some new. Realise they are from past and future. Basking in the peace of new found happiness, all your queries in life decoded; fear and anger dissipate. An exhilarating rush follows and...

She was his last thought at night; at break of day,the first light. A beautiful figment of his imagination, an intelligent honesty in all his citation. Her thoughts made his heart chime,  fragrance reminding him of roses and thyme. Writer whirlpooling to his destruction, enthralled by her treacherous seduction. To accept their love,the world refuse one mad writer and his phantom muse.

Dear winter, The other day I read somewhere that you will be harsh this year with snowfall and fog  so you must be doing fine. Well it is the most magical time of the year again and because its been cold past couple of weeks, its official that you have come.With new year being only a month away we can retrospect about the past and be hopeful about future; winter being the enigmatic bridge between the two dimensions. Despite the brazen cold, it has but always felt warm to me and I have always personified the thought of winter as an old lover, for it is one.                                                        Its December already and you will soon be a thing of distant past and I want you to hear me before you go. I had always loved the idea of us and thought of us as bits and pieces of flawless imperfection ready to take on the coldest...

My life these days is a constant overcoming of disappointments, despair , annoyance , petty sadness and failures. Sometimes the bruises on my knees is so painful I cringe and cry but as long as there's life, I shall fight. Beloved future you are the only reason I am being hopeful and thriving ,please don't disappoint me. I personally believe hope is a beautiful, pretty thing and the cruelest person are those who takes away another's hope.                            Las few months have been tumultuous and life changing. In the acceptance of changes around, I have realised life is so very uncertain and not always fair .The gravity I was rooted in was wrong for all the right reasons. I have evolved since then and am still evolving. I have let of things; unhealthy and not under my control. It has been painful yet beautiful in a mystical way.I know it will take time to get used to it and I shall give myself the time. I n...