The First Sonnet: Words in Vain

Note: My first attempt at writing in an Iambic pentameter. Phew, that was hard. Fun, but hard. Inspired loosely by the Dune series. As in, I had Lady Jessica in my mind a lot when I was writing this… Muad’Dib’s mother.. Don’t know why.. :\

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The words I know, and moments sunk in time

cannot suffice to mend this burning sphere

For I am lost in words that no more rhyme

and ghosts of people who were never here

It scares me that this world is changed to fire,

A desert fuelled by hate and crude despair

And all of these betrayals leave me tired

Cannot one see how hard I tried to care?

May I tell you a secret? We could stay;

and I could swear to never speak of Rain

Within your deep embrace I’d find escape,

Though we both know I bleed these words in vain,

For there is little you would have me say

And I love you in ways words can’t explain.

IMoPI

Nothing is True,

Everything is Permitted.*

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The past is a myth

and the future is a lie.

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(Or is it the other way around?)

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I’m all I’ve got

and it’s all I need.

.

And, if it isn’t

Well, at least I did it my way.

.

(Also:

Fuck You)

Beware the Rose’s thorns

 Her Last Letter to Lord Stone

In this world of pain lies betrayal, you were the only person I ever fully trusted with myself. The only person who learned the truth about me. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why you loathe me so. Because of a weakness I shall never have the chance to correct. Because I had already disappointed you before you had ever even laid eyes on me, even though I redeemed myself from the image of the life you once thought I’d lead… Even though you were straight fingered and caught in your own pots of honey back then. While I, while I drowned in endless rain.

Sinister thoughts overcome my mind sometimes. Maybe that’s why I hate white. Or maybe that’s why I prefer the color of skin when it is devoid of any color except undertones of blue and white. But then I remember other paler faces, and I know that that’s not true. (Is this when I’m supposed to feel relieved?)

Remember when we were flung out so far in that distant painted phony looking sky? When we laughed so hard that I began to cry, like I always do when I can’t stand how happy I am, and you wiped away every last tear even as we fell freely to the ground that was so so so far beneath us. Whispering over and over, Don’t cry, sweetheart, I’ve caught you.

Except I took too long to fall, and the ground was actually an ocean, and the ocean swallowed you whole, and made you see me from a whole new point of view, and you could tell how broken and damaged and worthless I truly was. And I could not find you. Can not find you. Because you do not want me to, and no one can reach you while you’re gone.

And I’ve followed you into this ocean, beloved. This ocean of ash and dust. You cannot turn your back on me now. Not after all this time. Not after everything we’ve been through together. Not after everything I have been through in your name!

But now I see just how this test was designed for me to fail. How the past year was designed to lead to no other outcome but this. It was clever of you. An almost automatic response, I would assume. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t see it happening. But I thought I had more time. I thought I had at least as long as some real betrayal.

If I had known that this is what it would turn into. If I had only known that the easier path would be all that attracted you, that you would rather run from something as simple as pain than stand your ground and be the man you swore you were, if I had known that you would actually choose mediocrity over meaning, as long as it meant the stabilization of your dominance and authority…

My father was right about you.

And this is the price of my disobedience.

Iniquitous

Your heart is still as stone, my love

(Or at least, it so truly wants to be)

Yes, I have known that long enough,

Pardon my insolent iniquity?

Still and sharp as the rock beneath,

Cutting all those who mistread, my love

Yet in all its obsidian sharpness,

I thought it a diamond in the rough

My diamond in the rough, my love

Yet it’s my veins you choose to mark?

Once with nectar, now with poison,

Anyone ever mention how you shine brighter in the dark?

But, I fear not, my fellow mortal,

trapped in this sea of mediocrity

For I have seen the morbid future

and by killing me, you have set me free

And when I have drawn my last breath, as decreed by fate

your soul shall harken unto me

But it shall be far, far, too late

And I will not even haunt thee.

For the die is cast, words of the spell spoken

There remains only the way to be free

A heart, finally, still as stone, my love

And it pardons your insolent iniquity.

Mute Genie

At this place in time and space,
where I need my words to stand by me
I find them fleeing in your shadow’s trail
to a phantom wake in the memory of thee

And I have no desire, nay, I shall not follow
I have nothing to say, goodbye’s long done
I followed you home in the midst of a storm
And I see that I have overstayed my welcome

Now, let me clarify, lest you regress
to pointing out my mountain of iniquities
I hold not that, nor else, against you
And I wish thee only happiness and peace

For, i should have seen this miles away
and I’d be lying if I said there were no signs
Alas I was caught in a vain struggle
fighting for what I believed was mine.

But lately, I’ve been beginning to learn
that perhaps it is better off in your hands
even if you get careless and break it,
Isn’t your wish, anyway, my command?

Banished

Hands reaching out like vines in a forest.
Always waiting to grab your soul.
Show me a way out, estranged lover,
Show me a way out, before you go..

I remember being washed clean
Before all of this trading of pain
Since then, admittedly, I have fallen
to new depths again and again

From grace,
time and space
While all I recall
is that look upon your face.

My words fall too, yes,
Like broken fragments of glass
Nothing good ever comes from a  journey
Ceaselessly, into the past

Yet, here I stand bewildered
How does it matter which way I choose?
Still, your order of banishment stands dictated
And who am I to refuse?

The Tower of Peace // Shelter from the Storm

She ran through the rain, the cold water dripping down the sides of her face and into the flowery dress that now clung scandalously to her body. The sun hovered lazily at the edge of the horizon, darkness only moments away. It was not far now. The Tower. She could already see it in the distance, rising up to the faintly star-studded sky, perfectly camouflaged against its surroundings. Hidden away from everybody else. It was sanctuary, her refuge. And as she made her way through the dense jungle, eyes focused only on her destination, she nearly stumbled and fell into a deep puddle of disturbed water. A stab of pain in her right ankle accompanied her regaining her balance. This was no time to fall.

Not much further now..

He was waiting at the foot of the tower when she got there. ‘You’re all drenched,’ he said, smiling. She wanted to throw herself into his arms like the long lost friends that they were. Instead, she insipidly nodded, looking around to see what had changed since the last time she had visited him here. The garden had grown wild, and there were flowers everywhere, yet she could see that he thought they bloomed to spite him, and she did her best not to speak of them or even think of them.

The flowers rustled quietly in the wind, as if begging to be touched.

Instead, she reached out and touched him, once, gently, the skin above his collar warm against her icy fingers. (Though perhaps that was the rain’s fault) She would have kissed him then, too, but they were supposed to be adults, and she was supposed to be a certain way that existed between two narrow lines of acceptable behavior. She satisfied herself by studying his profile instead, and as he spoke to her of troubles and amusements, she ached to run her fingers through his midnight hair. He smiled at her indulgently as she concentrated on the pieces of him that she could still see, that were still open to her, and then he turned away, leaving her to make her own way up the tower. It would take him a while to put away his weapons, lead the horses back to their stables and then join her. So she climbed the endless spiraling staircase herself, fingers curled around the cold railing in the dark, ankle still throbbing with a dull pain that she tried her best to ignore, water still dripping down her body in tiny rivulets and large drops.

It was a long way down.

Standing at the top, she felt a rush of giddy feeling sweeping over her. Perhaps things were finally changing for the better. Perhaps, the war was finally done with them. Perhaps, tonight, they could begin rebuilding everything that the fire had destroyed. Perhaps he would even remember what he had once sworn to her, a long long time ago, before the first war had started. But, somewhere within, she already knew what he always had; that the damage was done.

There was no going back.

Still, she thought wistfully, as she heard the wooden door rattle, and rushed to the door to let him in, beaming from ear to ear even as he breathed deeply, in an attempt to catch his breath after the steep climb. His hair was disheveled and wild as he stripped away his sweat soaked shirt and changed into the torn colorless gray garb that he seemed to favor. His eyes were always tired, even before the war, but lately it felt like even his own smiles stopped before they could reach his eyes. Still, he was beautiful to her.

And she smiled as she touched him again.

War or no war, every single ounce of pain was worth being able to stand here, so close to him, worth being able to touch him, even if he distractedly moved her hand away, or quickly sat down to pour over his books and maps before she had even finished saying what she was saying. It wasn’t important, surely. Not as vital as this memory of a present yet to be transformed into the past. His eyes glowed tirelessly as he sat at his desk late into the night, and she watched him sitting there for hours, until sleep tugged at her eye-lids and dragged her to its realm. Even then, she only truly breathed easy when she felt him climb into bed with her, his presence all the reassurance that she had ever needed.

The nights were the hardest part of her exile.

But in the present, (or maybe it was already the past, she thought sadly), her hand sought his as the World continued its indiscriminate and cruelly pre-meditated murdering and looting by bombs and missiles and soldiers all around their fortified turret. And even though he drew away from her subconscious need to feel his skin against her own, they both sighed peacefully and leaned into one another.

Like the last two trees in a parched desert.

~ Mono no Aware ~

Something about this picture is just *too* precious.

World Class

World Class

It’s like all these years, the determined Prince marched on into war after war, watching his once proud army bleed and fall; saving them from utter defeat so often, but always moving further and further away from the dream and realm of victory..

Until the Empire sent forth its finest general, a horrific injury keeping him off the battlefield, but his mind as sharp as ever. The Empire thought it was just getting rid of a non-soldier in armor; transferring him to a war-front that was almost certainly lost.

But… from the moment the Prince and the General first met, they recognized something in one another that they both desperately needed; a relentless hunger for victory.

The General, he devised strategies for harder battles, filled up gaps in the army that prevented them from defeating smaller/weaker opponents, came up with tactics for every situation, and pushed every single soldier towards the best that he could be.

The Prince, for the first time in too long, flanked on all sides by an army finally worthy of him, led forth his young charges into battle after battle. And, inspired by his steely eyed determination, battle after battle, they emerged victorious.

Together, the Prince and the General, they reined in the younger boys, transforming their anger and frustration into an indomitable spirit of conquest. And, soon, the news spread like wildfire.

The Reds were on the March.

And they were Invincible.

And so, these two, surrounded at last by the fine young soldiers that they themselves had created, marched on towards their common goal. For the first time in too long, both for the General as for the Prince, Victory awaited.

[So, this hug. After a difficult battle.
“Thank you.. for winning that.”, said the General to his Prince.
The Prince shook his fair head and smiled nobly in return, “No.. Thank you.”
..
And not so far away, a lonely Victory shivered beautifully in her tower of glass, even as the men who had abducted her all these years ago stood ready for the final onslaught.
“My Steven and Brendan will come”, she whispered. And even though the men holding her captive laughed and mocked her, you could hear the fear in their voices.

Because they too had heard of the men in that army. The unstoppable Suraez. The faster than lightening Sterling. The always on target Sturridge. The mage-like Coutinho. The frightening Skrtel. And a whole bunch of other soldiers who only got stronger and better and faster with every day.

An army of red, led by two determined men.

Victory was rightfully theirs.]

To What End

If I could only see you
once every ten years
Not living to see them through
would be my only fear

I know it all seems a little
difficult to believe
I know I’m naught but trouble
every other week.

But that’s because you,
you alone are my thunderstorm
And I need your light and sound
to know that I belong.

And were you to ever be imprisoned
In any jail, or trapped in a jar,
Know that I’d come and save you
now matter how far you are

Because I need to soak in your intentions
I need to wallow in your name
I need you to come in to my kingdom
so I may follow you to where you reign

And if it took me ten whole years
Don’t worry, I’m the one
If darkness is what you needed
Love, I swear I’d take out the Sun.