Saturday 7 June 2014

Distorted

There is this little voice that exits inside all of us..  Even if you are doing any one teeny weeny wrong thing to big disastrous mistakes,  this little voice is always telling you to do the right thing. The only difference from person to person is if we pay heed to that little voice or not... 
     So here's my next poem 'Distorted'... It's about the personification of one righteous concioussness, captured in the body of a being who keeps it suppressed and unwanted... 




                 
              Distorted

I step out of her when clock strikes twelve past quarter
 the bulb wildly embers, while the curtains flutter
It has been quite a time since I’ve flown out of her
 Her...the body inside which I’m captured..
I peek into the nearby mirror
and stare at my contour that seems eternally translucent
there’s no skin to block me, no blood to choke me
when I stand here limitless, and her lying out there
without me to fill her
the ‘me’... who is distorted..
I fly out of the open window into the night’s serene atmosphere
 Where Moon  shows off his radiance
at the teeny flattered stars who flicker.
After a brief  stroll
I lie down on the bank of a  river..
My thoughts wonder off to her
 inside whom I am captured
Why is she so dueless?
Why is she turning her life so meaningless?
I force her to see how much more there is beyond herself
But she closes her eyes and refuses to see
I force her to hear those bitter cries of the needy
But she covers her ears and refuses to hear
What is the worth of living a life so mean?
Where all you think about is I and me??
It is much better out here, where I can lie down taking in the fresh  air
With none of her  peel to confine me within her bare...
 This is the only little while
 when there’s nothing to keep me captured
the only little while, when I am limitless... when I am distorted...
Call me her alter ego or her subconscious,
that  little essence living inside her who has forever been ignored
But there is one verity that she’s not aware of
that once she starts regretting of these false doings of her’s
I won’t be there to console her.. for ill be long gone
Every time she shuts me up, she’s hurting me
Every time she turns me down, she’s stabbing me
Why ain’t she realizing I’m the only piece humane in her
Even if...I am distorted
It’s time to return. So, I get up and soar back
into the stillness of the room
 where she is lying like a maniac
without giving a damn to me or the universe, her creator.
The cage in her body opens its entrance for me
and  I reluctantly rush into her countour  lying over the bed
 With a faint glimmer of new hope ablaze
for a beginning another treacherous day her like a haze
that she never ever does embrace..
I swear upon my existence, for that day is fast approaching
When she’d regret not paying any heed,
to me..
The ‘me’... who is distorted...
             ********************
Hey lovely folks! I apologize for such a late post... All that heat just got me too lazy to type in anything. 
   Thanks for taking out time and reading this. I hope this poem is worth the delay... 
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