The Black Swan

The ardent and bold dark night had a lonely visitor....
She had wings of fire and to heal was her only desire....

Mercilessly driven through seclusion in her unique scar of identity....
The visitor's critiques broke her heart a million times ingloriously....

Not deterred by the merciless child within on an intense November night....
The visitor pays a visit to his lucid yet livid image of a reflection in the dark....

Though what it sees is a mere image of his bold and audacious self....
Somewhere the dark visitor knows in his own heart the reluctant recluse is his true nature....

A retrospect in motion

There is a silver lining behind every dark cloud...

                                                           
To an optimist the virtue of hope is part derivative and part inclusive.. To surrender oneself to the unexplained phenomenon of nature.. To the calmness of a lonely tree thats in line of his vision...to the motionless dark cloud encompassing his fading  faith as he moves under it...
                                                             
At the mercy of the blowimg winds are many wavering and dwindling lives..surrendered in their limitations travelling through their melancholic charades...there is no respite in near sight for the end of this suffering...as the clouds cast darkness dat fail to lift the dying man back to life...

In its tyranny nature casts its spells to all living things alike..even miracles follow terrible times of unrest and unstable mimes...such is the efficacy and frailness of a weakend life...not even a glimpse of the brightness to follow the guiding light

There is no sighn of mercy when nature wraths its fury.,.nothing lasts in permanence and change persists like shifting sands in time...devouring everything in its ravenous path.,subjugating every living emotion to its mighty delusion...

I still hope on against all odds as i gather my inspiration from the lonely tree that stands under the dark shroud of the clouds...i am an optimist whose vision is not laterally bound and limited to his path of vision but beyond

I see the whole picture in my minds eye and ponder... What if the tree had legs and it moved at will..always following the light and moving away from dark shrouds as it walked..wud it still be subjected to the brute n crude forces of nature still..or would it take respite in its struggle for existence infinitely untill death like me...either ways submitting to nature

Endless are the woes of the living in their mutual dependence..for the clouds that cast the dark shadow beseech their obstacles too..they are on their path to self destruct too...only to shower down as essential rains that are needed by all...in its temporary state it passes by the tree and thanks it for creating oxygen that is part of its existence

So while blocking the light the tree pass a momentarily glee on to thie tree before it moves on to its own obstacles for a meeet with its destined end.   Beyond the vision of an optimists lateral n beyond vision he perceives an intrinsic working of the elements caught in trafnsition

Though the scene offered little solace at first... the optimist realized the eagerness with which he could relate to the helpless shawdowless tree shroud under the dark clouds..then appeared a silver lining from behind the dark cloud.. Promising hopes of better times to come.

Some time later.. The tree moved on and so did  the cloud...the traveller in time had realized the nature of mutual dependence by aligning to the sacred geometry presented by his external vision and through his introspections of his inner thoughts...with a dash of optimism he looks at the darkness now...as he knows there will be light once the darkness lows out

Winds of changes flutter his minds imaginations..an optimistic retrospection in motioners with a sincere devotion.

Perceptive Timelessness . ... ..

Retracted in the continuity of a languid existence
Far away from the treacherous deception of nature's insanity
Swept under by the gloomy magical illusions of this world
and forsaken in the dark turmoil of a unintelligible quagmire of matter

Constantly tucked away in the rugged ebb and flow of tumultuous imitations
this surreal fancy spell of my sensual elemental retrospect's limitations
constrained by invisible forces and limited by minds periodic projections
thoughts amass in wave forms and dispelled in this material existence

what is the life of this thought that degenerates in time,, i wonder
are they cuneiform assemblage of arrayed visions from the future...
that are constructed in the workshop of a constantly working mind
and presented to the ethereal world as an individual's unique signature

for what happens to a million thoughts that are construed every day then..
for the perpetual inflow of my inspirations trigger a garland of thoughts that are unique
some are lost and some are retained, if their merit beholds a purpose to serve
most of them are lost forever in this rude and horrendous precipitation of time

if these thoughts are connections between different dimensions of my world
the past the present and the future...within which my stalemate life swirls
where regression of ideas and resurgence of dreams are matters of infinite requiems
where deja'vu's are nothing but repetitions of my minds joriki the subliminal filter

the immensity of natures deception using time and the mind's myriad perceptions entwined
have forever kept me wondering weather there's anything real that's passes through time
as they say nothing lasts forever..and time consumes everything in it..then..
is everything perceptively lost? or filtered that way based on it's purposefulness?

it's hard to ponder on the nature of a mind that's giving all it's thoughts away ...
and it still continues to live in its imaginary wealth of happiness and joy.
as I think my life away on a path guided with limited retrospection's...
will there be an end to this ridiculous saga...or will this riddle's continue as a timeless perception..

A Fallen Knights Dream of Valor...!!!

A fervent tide of emotions wash adrift it's vibrational Greys

In the darkest of it's inceptive fears, lingers an unspoken voice

That wants to transcend from the depths of it's vibratory troughs

An unaware fallen knight mired by the subtlely of it's own disturbed mind

Cast far away from his inner serenity and rageful of his demystifying guiles

Covered under the charades of a harsh winter's unforgiving strides

Then comes A beacon of life emerging out of an unforgivingly deathly cold night

With this Wrath of nature, the beacon faces the fallen knight cast under his own spell of doom

The life of this invisible light refracts it's way through the shield of the fallen's knights armor

With his timid eyes wide shut and an with a pure ignited spark of light

With It's livid entwined existence nestled in the warmth of its own might

An inspiration paces faster then it's own animatory beat of a delight

To summon the strengths off it's living air  is the nature of a bright star

For the fallen knight now has a guiding beacon at the fore and not afar

Casting away an unprecedented weary wrath off the wretched knights glamor

With his welcoming scent of forgiveness the star takes the night with his might

Dispelling the covenant of unseen new times with his bloomy twinkling jive

A miraculous illumination percepts in time to give the knight a reason to be alive

Oh! will you be so much of a wait to show up finally says the restless knight...

This anticipation of his dream..where he aches to see you in your surrogatory flight..

Ravishing resplendent thoughts of your pretty little not so distant light...

You keep the valiant knight anticipating.. awed in eagerness to see you again tonight!