IV
Death must be a woman.
Warped Mind
My brain, (if i had one) must be some weird, new age, reincarnation thing ... hmmm, yeah, that seems to be the most likely solution!
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
III
She calls, she sings
They come, they dance
She pulls their strings
They are willing slaves
But the one who fascinates her
Is the one she waits for
As long as thirteen years
In a horrifying, lingering patience
For that one poisoned kiss
The one who’ll follow her to bed
The one who makes her heart resonate
The one who’s destined to sit on the crystal throne
The one who will die for her
The one she’ll kill to have
7 Comments:
- Epiphany said...
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the one she will be the downfall of....the one who will die if she can't posses him?
- said...
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Just a babe in the black abyss
Waiting to tear out of her cyst
In thirteen years she never did kiss
Spreading venom's resting bliss
Not one, many of them
The one who died for her
The one she killed, and never had
Not one. Many of them... - chaos said...
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is the wait over!... what if he does come and ignores her... is the wait worth for!!! ... just a thought...
- humbl devil said...
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waitin for moi??
muahhaha...
good piece tho..
i kno, i kno..u've heard it a zillion tyms now... - Ishwar said...
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- Ishwar said...
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Pls. do me a favour - make sure kiruba gets a very painful death. pls.
And, was this just an adolescent fantasy or something deeper?
or does it sounds like a documentary on spider mating only to me? - Vincent said...
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nice job but very linear.. not cryptic like I and II.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
II
Amidst the murkiness that lingers
Hidden under the black silken shroud
Lies her white, translucent porcelain skin
Soft and cold
Her long wavy tresses
Beautiful and intimidating
Her piercing eyes
Sweet and eerie
Her full lips
Once rosy, now pale
Now curved up in a smile
So sharp and spiteful
It could cut across the thickest of skins
The strongest of hearts
The dead, the living, and those yet to be
9 Comments:
- phatichar said...
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Hmmmmm :)..where've u been girl? You don't show up on msgr anymore..
- said...
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One day her heart will
Melt by the side of a fire.
They told her so,
But believed she never
Cos' that day, she'll wake up
To the love of three words
And a soul in metaphor.
From within and without
Transformed
Cold, dead eyes
Long gone...
A new life begotten
From a horrid moan
Two eyes, so blue and
So new, yet so old...
Many years on
She went by the side
Of a human to break out
I wonder why she
Never before did emote
Cos' that day her
Melted heart, up it woke
To the love of three words
And a metaphored soul
---
Written in response to my understanding of this post. This comment goes up on my blog sometime in the near or distant future. Heh.
Death is just freedom from the curse of a mortal body. - J said...
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@AC
WOW! Interesting, but not in the lines of what I meant :) - said...
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What happened to her dream?
- said...
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is there a part III?
- Sudipta Chatterjee said...
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Wow! A long long time later... this post made some sense to me. Rather, I found some non-onliner on your blog. The poetry was nice...
@Arcane Crapper: That was awesome... will visit your blog! - Sudipta Chatterjee said...
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This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
- said...
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We're open to interpretations now, aren't we?
A life drained from a woman/girl. That's all I picturized. However, there might have been a reference to the self... Which was what I thought, and hence the reply...
Of course it might also refer to being-not-alive-while-alive kinda thing, apart from thousands of other possible interpretations.
I like your morbid style of writing... :) - Vincent said...
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looks like there's gonna be a third part.
PS: Your template is making it hard for me to view your blog at work. It draws a lot of unnecessary attention.
Friday, June 02, 2006
I
Thirteen rings
Sitting pretty on ten fingers
No gold, no silver, no diamonds or pearls
Only cold, black, icy desire
Thirteen more steps
And she’ll get to her dream
She sees the tortured, distorted final visage
In a manner no living soul could ever envision
The throne of crystal
Blacker than her heart
Empty, twisted and malformed
Waiting for a willing executioner
5 Comments:
- Monami Roy said...
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but dus th executioner come? ..
nice one again...the part 2 is out in the nearest blog ..:D :D i mean part 2 is on my blog now.
peace...!
\m/ - Monami Roy said...
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wud it hurt to exchange links..?if its not too much?
- Vincent said...
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I'd interpret that as,
kid playing in the snow grows up to be the reluctant girl walking towards the altar.
i don't wanna guess the third.. but wow. - said...
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An one ring for the Dark Lord's hand,
Sitting on his throne...
In a land so dark
Where I have to go...
-> Blind Guardian - Lord of the Rings
:) - Ishwar said...
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Wait, wait... Ooh, an illuminati puzzle. Just luuuurrrve them.
Thirteen rings is the anagram of "irr teen things" - The "incessantly raunchy roman teen things" - a secret teenage army in tight leather pants sworn to boost leather fetish business.
No gold, no silver, only cold black icy desire - the teen weekend college parties.
This puzzle is a good one. waiting for Part II
5 Comments:
well death is just the end....woman is what gets you there...the grim reaper maybe....wot say J? :)
Life is a man, then? :)
For those who are obsessed with life, death is a licentious cyprian.
For those who are fascinated by the end, death is an enigmatic seraph.
Death was always a-woman and in these times many-women too.
_|_
u got it all wrong dear..
death is not woman. its women.
advice - never hurry to squeeze in two dates on the same night. especially the same meal..
gw
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