Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Continuum


It’s another year, another date on the calendar, and yet, it marks a new beginning.

A beginning, for I have died and been born again. I faced my survival even as this year was ushered in just twelve months ago.

I’m the voice who has cried and screamed in anguish, shouting for changing. It was my voice that took to the streets, that moved mountains which obstructed the view of freedom and toppled them to set my fellowmen free.

I’m the form that bore the bloodshed, through the regime of change. Battles were won, battles were lost but the war ain’t over yet.

I’m the conscience that reeled under severity. I’m the one who has sought a life not marked by the sign of coinage. I seek to renounce materialism.

I’m the vigour that raged through the blood of my fellowmen, seeking what is justly theirs, tired of ignoring the same charades that drove their lives. I choose to take the reins in my hands.

I’m the being at the receiving end of nature’s fury. I have battled the high waters, the shaking grounds and have been wounded by my own creations. I have been reminded of my own mortality.

I’m the entity who has grieved and rejoiced jointly, as the cycle of life and death culminated before my eyes every moment, every day. The influential have risen, the once powerful met their demise. I have been witness to it all.

I’m the medium, of ecstatic joy and desolate sorrow. Of everlasting hope and never-ending despair. Of the sheer belief in new beginnings and of the cynicism of an endless void. I was the old year...I will be the new year.

I am...humanity. Man. Life.

...........................................................................................................

Certainly this post speaks of the major events of this year, though a give away would be that most of them are concerned with world affairs (what with my favourite channel being BBC World News, no kidding) Play the guessing game with me and tell me which paragraph speaks of which event? But, but, I won't be able to answer right away for I'll be off, owing to my forthcoming exams and limited connectivity. Still give it a shot anyway?

To the bloggers and all my other readers, a very Happy New Year in advance. May the new year bring health, happiness and fulfillment to you all. Thank you for sticking by, for making me feel so loved. I shall see you in 2012 now. Ciao!

Friday, December 16, 2011

A Heartfelt Letter




I set myself the task to write you something...and I draw blanks.

Not what you would expect of me, right? I’m never at a loss for words, whether it is one of the usual lectures or the sage-like comments on your doings or even when we’re up discussing just about everything and everyone affecting (or not affecting) our lives. I was the more expressive one, even if not generous with compliments and praises (but critique, sure enough) the way you are.

Six years...no, more than that, and I never wrote a letter to you; a characteristic of my close relationships.

Despite our friendship being the most conventional kind, a fallback anchor which only strengthened during the years, it was always a touch different. Together and yet separate. Bonded and yet apart. A presumption we both carried that the other will be there when needed as we went about our different lives.

A distance which will only grow further. Time flew by so quickly, didn’t it? Just yesterday, we were two inquisitive, somewhat naive sixth graders, having made our acquaintance in circumstances I don’t even recall any longer - only that we wouldn’t have even thought of becoming good friends, so different we were. I was the typical student, mindful of her performance at every turn and a touch grownup for her age; you, on the other hand, into everything that was teenage. We are no less different now, except we are too used to complementing each other to break out of the comfort zone that took some effort establishing.

I’m digressing...surely you know all of that. What should I write about then? About how we have never fought, like typical friends do, choosing to ignore the difference of opinion altogether? Or how we would be the first to tell each other of any recent development (including well-kept secrets that are not supposed to be revealed to anyone, but of course, we must tell one another)? Or how we can always count on each other’s company when the whole world has deserted us and we have no one to turn to? The list goes on...these six years of friendship have been too eventful to recount every detail. We know it, we know it too well. It is what forms the base of our mutual understanding that needs no words.

Perhaps I took that maxim a bit too far, to the extent that I never acknowledged it properly. And this is the purpose of this write-up, the first letter that I have coined for you and it shall speak only of gratitude, my friend. You were the silent figure, staying in shadows behind my back while I chased the illusionary charms of the world; only stepping forward into the picture either to hoist me up further in success or to lift me from the spiralling despair I fell victim to, more often than not. I have had my share of dealing with acquaintances and friends as well and yet, did I not always depend on you, for everything?

You are the only friend I see as an equal. A refuge, a recourse, a support – never judging, never asking. Over the years, whatever little influence I could bring in your life was noticed and talked about, and yet, do not people see, that you held me from falling apart, alone and miserable? That you are one person I can rightfully ask to do anything, knowing I’ll never be turned down? Your friendship is invaluable to me, my friend. The ‘honour’ which I so seek after in any relation, in your case, it is how you helped me to be myself above everything.

On this very special day, I pray that you may do all that you wished for, achieve all that your heart has always been set on. I pray that you may remain the way you are – caring and looking after others, in that nonchalant way of yours. I seek to believe that we will remain friends for as long as live. For my destiny leads me to deem that this association of ours surpasses lifetimes.

Here’s to a year of new beginnings. Many happy returns of the day, my dear friend.

-Truly yours.


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For the wonderful writer at ♡♥♪ჱL!fe Thr()ugh My Eyes♡♥♪ჱ,  without whom I wouldn't have been here, if you haven't guessed it already, this is for you, Juhi. The letter says it all, doesn't it?


Happy birthday! Have a wonderful year ahead! :D

Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Bloom Of Curse - II




The blossoms surround me yet again as I walk towards the cherry tree. Light pink merging with earth brown to create the illusion that is, as I realise lately, a trademark of your powers. It fills my vision as I stand still, awaiting. Chills prick my skin in anticipation of your next move. I’m on my edge, feeling, sensing the slightest of change that could cause my undoing.

As usual you take me by surprise, capable as you are at stealth. With a flourish you appear, looking down at your slave, held captive by the roots of the cherry tree.

I do not back down from your merciless gaze. I’m not afraid…I never was. My history with divination has allowed me, above all, to predict my own death.

How I long to lie in your arms and breathe my last, disregarding your hand coated with my blood; the hand that could so easily tear me apart like a spear…


In the dead of the night, the sky resounded with thunder and lightening. Rain poured over the unsuspecting city. She woke up to the storm pounding at her windows. In a single, fluid movement, she hoisted herself from the bed and walked over to the balcony. The doors were flung open and she was soaked within minutes. Retreating to the humid comfort of her room, she absently lit a cigarette, mindlessly gazing into the pale countenance and the hollow eyes of her reflection in the mirror as she smoked. The steady gaze belied the turbulent sentiments that tore through her.

She had every reason to rage at herself. Ten years on and the ruminants of that terrible night still haunted her enough to lose her sleep. Deliberately, she took off her damp shirt, revealing a long, ragged scar across her right shoulder and whip like marks on the base of her neck. Her eyes closed in anguish as she recalled the asphyxiating pain that shot through her body, as she wriggled vainly to free herself of the vice-like grip of the cherry branches. The plain black and white talismans, knife-sharp, sliced her arms at multiple places. The feeling of being stabbed as she mistakenly cut through her shoulder to free herself of the chains… She retained the scars of that incident, both physical and emotional. Wearing full-sleeved robes that covered her extremities was all she could do to hide the apparent signs of that encounter, but it besieged her like a vulture which circles endlessly to capture its prey.

The battle was unfinished. In the haze that rose from her now neglected cigarette, her eyes gleamed with a feeling unknown to her till that day – vengeance. As she began to dress, casting aside the lingering thoughts of sleep, she could smell the faint fragrance of the blossoms wafting through the clammy air. She smiled grimly; she wasn’t the only one who was awake at this ungodly hour.

He was waiting for her. Both of them didn’t like to leave a story incomplete.

With a callous satisfaction, she tucked the sword inside her coat and left. The rendezvous was arranged – without either speaking a word. 


(To be continued)
..................................................................................................................................................................................

How I wish I could be less erratic, but the annoying school and even more annoying studies - so much for sustained creativity. *sighs* 

This irregularity shall remain for now, that is all I can say. 

Saturday, November 26, 2011

The Bloom Of Curse - I



Night. Darkness. Against the blinding backdrop, all I can see, can feel…is cherry blossoms.

Soft, light, fragile…the petals glide in the mild breeze – pale pink clashing with inky black.

Cymbals chime gently. My eyes closed, I cannot see you.

I don’t need to see you. You’re but a step away, your breath tingling on my neck, your musky smell enveloping me.

My hand extends to grasp your shoulder. Did I not give myself in that moment?

The moment when your hand reached out to caress my hand, before plunging straight through my heart.

…I can’t feel anymore.


Her eyes snap open, her body starting from the kneeling position. A moment ago, she was in a deep trance, casting a protection spell, when she was drawn in by the blossoms.

Pale pink…turning to crimson red. Was it a dream? A prophecy, a vision of the future?

She shuddered to recall the face.

She went to her chair, easing into it, relaxing and breathing deeply, as vestiges of the vision play against the landscape of her mind. A moment too late, before she reacts to the indrawn wind, the barely heard footstep; she finds herself locked in a firm embrace, arms sliding against her bare shoulders.

A low, baritone voice hums in her ear. “And you call yourself a psychic.”

She smiles, easing further into the chair against the crook of his neck, murmuring, “I can’t be on guard the entire time. My strength is limited.”

He brushes his cheek against her silken hair. “Even if it cost you your life?”

Her eyes flicker open, levelling upon him calmly. “As if a lapse in judgement would kill me. You should know better.”

He pulls away, walking towards the window. “Destiny,” he sneers, “of course. So much for making your life when a contraption like a bunch of stars has already determined your lifespan.”

She let the comment pass, knowing it wasn’t sceptical. “This coming from someone who swears by his tarot cards.”

In a rare moment, he looks sheepish. “Self-mockery is one of my traits, unfortunately.”

Laughter resounds as she draws up to him, wrapping her arms around him. In the moment of silence that follows, she remains still, merely aware. Aware of the fact that this was the last time she would be held like this.

(To be continued)
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Ah, this is what you get for watching anime like there's no tomorrow (I'm a twelfth grade student; I'm supposed to study) Do you see the influence. The cherry blossoms, the occultism and the like? For the occasional reader well-versed with anime/manga, this is straight out of Tokyo Babylon or even X/1999 (I mean, literally inspired by it), before you accuse me of plagiarism.  Readers, it's meant to be original fiction, so do not desert me! 


Monday, November 7, 2011

Let Go




Why must I follow your call?
Who are you, to dictate my fall?
A life so unique, I’ve tried to lead.
Why must you stamp and knead
It into a commonplace existence?
I’m no escapist; I seek the verve
Of a separate reality, free of bonds
Which hold you in place, day and night.
Insanity you plead, I laugh instead,
Oh to live in confines like you is lunacy indeed!
Do not chain me; you shall harm yourself.
There is no greater crime
Than to domineer a liberated spirit.
I hear the cry of skies, beckoning me.
Let me fly, away from your constraints
And restrictions, I was, I am and I will
Never be your slave...

.....................................................................................................................................

I'm the most forgetful, ungrateful creature you'll ever come across. *sighs*


How could I forget to acknowledge the person who gave me my first ever blog award?



Juhi, aka Philo who has been so kind enough to do the honours, to you, I can only say one thing: Thank you!

No, actually there are other things too...I hope you realise that it is because of you that I'm even here in the first place. You equally inspire me to write and may we always be able to relate to each other through this common bond. Thank you so much. :D



Thursday, November 3, 2011

Love In Anonymity


“Did I not say...”

“Say what?”

“Three words: I love you.”

A laugh. “How clichéd.”

“I believe in being simple.”

“Of course.”

A smile, a sigh. She leans over, kissing him softly.

“I love you too.”

...

His eyes snap open. The intensity of the dream (dream, memory?) leaves him breathless.

It’s you again. Why?

He gets up from the bed and goes to the windows. Eyes closed against the streaming sunlight, he leans against the window sill. Quiet, still...he can feel her, wrapping her arms around his torso as he burrows his face into her shoulders, drinking in the musky, sweet smell of hers. Her skin tingling under his light touches...she looks up, eyes sparkling, dark hair dangling around her swan-like neck and petite ears. Her face mere inches from his, leaning in to kiss him, savour him...melting into him, becoming one...

The shrill sound of his phone ringing startles him from his reverie.

Disconcerted, he staggers across the room to grab his phone. Unmindful of who is calling, he simply answers the call, pressing the receiver to his ear. Déjà vu hits him...the melodious, playful voice at the other end takes his breath away yet again.

“Darling, you were dreaming about me, weren’t you?”

He drops to his knees, suddenly overwhelmed. Clutching at the phone, he rasps, voice choked with emotion. “Who else would it be, my sweet? Who else would it be?”

“Still as sentimental as ever. When will you learn?”

He sighs, unable to vanquish the torrent of emotions, released at the mere sound of her. “My dear...you know that’s how I’m. Where are you? Come back to me, please.”

“Would I now, seeing as to how you are begging for dear life?”

He goes quiet, wondering wildly as to how he could ever fall in love with a probable sadist... He glances at her portrait, her beautiful face revealing no more than her voice. He searches for meaning in those deep, frozen eyes...and finds only mystery.

“Go away! Stop it...stop torturing me!” He is surprised at his own words.

The phone clicks and the haunting voice is gone. He curls up against the floor, quietly crying, loathing himself for being so weak. The door opens with a barely audible creak; footsteps resounding throughout the room.

A gasp, an indrawn breath. Air heavy with perfume...that unmistakable fragrance. A soft hand reaching out to caress him.

He turns to find her looking at him concernedly and realises that the circle never ends. It goes on...infinitely so.


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Where are all my readers? A writer cannot improve without proper feedback, you know!





Monday, October 31, 2011

Entwined Hopes - Part II




In that moment, time stood still.

When I…saw you, facing me, it was as if nothing else existed in that moment…

…Apart from you and me.

I gave nothing away, as I walked towards you, each step resounding with the caution of my impassive demeanour. There was…so much I could do. I could have ran towards you, demanded, asked a thousand questions of you, take you into a heartrending embrace, never to let go.

But I did nothing of it, except pouring all the intensity of the moment into my eyes.

I stood a passable distance from you. Not for an instant did your gaze break, nor for a moment did the breeze stop flowing. But it was for an eternity that my soul made its transition to the past…

…To the time when we saw each other for the first time, ready to fight. The clash of swords didn’t diminish our smiles at all. Love at first sight was a concept we never knew yet we felt it as strongly as we could.

…To the time when, hand in hand, we walked upon the plains, gazing across the moonlit horizon, assured that we would be by each other’s side for as long as we live.

An assurance that was broken as soon as it was made.

…To the time, when you… left me, for good. An embrace on your part, a tear on my part and our final greetings were said. You never turned back to glance and I stood there as long as I could see you, hands clutching the part where my heart lay, wishing that I could rip it apart.

That was our story. It had ended that night itself, with your departure.

But it didn’t. It was endless, up till now.

Now I’m going to put an end to this tale of love and affection, hurt and betrayal, and finally, sacrifice.

We are facing each other now, as enemies. There can be no leniency now.

I draw my sword. You don’t speak, but your eyes say a thousand words. They are questions, many questions, but you are asking them to someone whom you loved before.

I’m not the same anymore. To your questions I only say one thing in response.

‘”Love is irrelevant in a battle.”

To which you say. “Do you have the courage to raise the sword against me?”

I almost choke at my next statement but say it aloud. “As a warrior, it is my duty,” I recite my oath.

“…to kill my opponent, or be killed myself.”

There is no time for words as our swords clash in what could be termed as the final fight of our lives. There was no telling who will live through this clash.

Move and countermove, each strike of one weapon opposed powerfully by another weapon; the world around us is silent except for the clanging sound of metal and our heaving breaths.

As our blades collide once again we leap back to the same places where we had earlier stood. Gazes meet, swords raised to sky, our lips move to utter the final words…
The following strike may bestow the blessing as well as the curse of demise on whomsoever.

With that, the moment I would never forget till my very last breath culminated, right before my eyes…

…Right before my eyes, you lay impaled by my sword, in my arms. You were favoured by the gods and I was left to pick up pieces of my shattered heart.

There’s nothing I can do, nothing ever to change this moment.


All feelings vanish like the glow in your eyes. It is only emptiness I feel.

In that moment, time stood still. I only wish I could will it back to life.

..........................................................................................................

Needless to say, it's Ashura and Yasha again. Can be read as a stand-alone, though.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Entwined Hopes - Part I



A final touch, a final whisper, I await…

The breeze blows ever so gently, yet I quiver and tremble as if shaken by a storm.

Fragrance of flowers wafts into the air. The clouds leave their silhouette on the moon, gleaming as if richly adorned with silver.

Whom do I face now, in this exquisite ambiance? I’m lost in the seamless depths of dark eyes. It is almost as if those delicate vines all around are entwining me into eternity…

Eternity it is, for I do not how long I could be lost in that mystical world. The eyes are all I see, not the shadow of the person who approaches me, closer and closer.

Mesmerized by the sheer strength in those eyes, I stand still, offering no resistance.

The gaze loses it fascination, as I finally break away to glance around. This moment, this chance will not return, never.

I am swept into powerful arms, into an overwhelming embrace. The moment I waited for, the moment I longed for is here, but it brings with it a portent.

Tears roll down, breathless gasps shatter the silence. Love of a lifetime is encompassed into this tiny fragment.

A final touch, a final whisper, I await…

The whisper conveys the fate of my life, as a reluctant release leaves me staggering, down on my knees.

“We’ll meet again, only to see who shall craft a new beginning for the other. Demise shall govern each and every turn we make.”

My life is now no more in my hands. Dear, love of my life; it is in your stead from now.
I shall await that day. Your love is what I shall seek, what I shall find. The day you shall set me free…

I will owe my life to that moment. Yes, we shall meet again.

...........................................................................................................

I'm back again. I don't think I was missed though. ^^"

Ah, well, in any case, I'm here to stay and God willing I will have more things to post once my sabbatical properly begins. 

This post, meanwhile, is again to do with my love for anime. It's loosely based on Tsubasa Chronicle and that too on two minor characters Ashura and Yasha (originally from RG Veda
Without a doubt, the four episodes covering the two are amongst my favourite. However it's not fanfiction, by any chance. 

Thoughts, comments, anyone? :)


Oh and before I forget. A very Happy Diwali and a prosperous New Year to all my readers!

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Oh Writing, Why Must You Desert Me?


Yes, yes, I know. I return a month later to show my face and all I have to regale my readers with are...rants, to say the least.

Damn writer’s block. I only wish I could show you the numerous snippets of attempted writing in the past weeks which have not gone beyond a 100 words, mind you.

But, if I’m not mistaken, I’m entitled to use this space to ramble away. It was my main purpose for coming on here!

So, what has this person been up to since the last date of posting, I hear you ask? Oh dear, if only I could go to detail just how school has nearly been the undoing of me (so much for being in the Cabinet/Student Council; which is more like dancing to the tune of a puppeteer, I tell you) or how travelling for competitions has taken the life out of me – and here’s the catch, both of them were proper literary events! One, a pithy little essay-writing competition which was a part of an inter-school event, the topic being (oh kill me) ecological benefits of cycling. So much for creative writing. I still managed the third prize despite my not so cohesive writing.

 Then the other, a Model United Nations debate; this time part of a college fest. Now, world politics is a pet subject of mine and simulating the UN with all its complex procedure and completely formal demeanour is quite challenging and fun too – meant for people like me who love arguing to death, while striking a balance between varied perspectives on matters of international significance. The agenda being? Terrorism and the Israel-Palestine conflict. For those who have even a little inkling of what the latter issue is (it would be too presumptuous on my part to consider even asking about the first one) they will know how extremely complicated it is to try and resolve it like the watchdogs of our world do, that too within a span of two days. And if you’re representing none other than the country of United States of America, you’re in for a disaster – do not ask how. Which I nearly averted with another third prize; talk about 3 being a lucky number. Have you ever heard of a proper U.S. delegate not interfering in any issue whatsoever? Well, you just met one.


And here I had thought I was one of most astute debaters my school could boast of, sigh.


Extra-curricular aside, here come the bone of contention for every student (unless you’re a self-proclaimed geek/nerd). Exams! The rotten thing is, I will resort to writing in the most flowery language possible when I should be preparing for the next day’s paper. Too bad it is not working for me currently, or else you wouldn’t have to go through this sorry excuse for a blog post. This month has been absolutely frenetic and it is going to be so right up till Diwali. Then, of course, the withering rose will bloom again, so much that the thorns will draw blood even at the slightest of touch. For now, this is my situation:


I would gladly like to answer in the affirmative but I'm afraid it's not possible until the writing bug bites me while I'm supposed to be studying Economics and Business Administration. Seems more likely now, eh? The impromptu hiatus is now an official one, folks. See you around the corner. :)



Saturday, August 27, 2011

Sacrilege



Cast aside your misgivings,
Your minion I’m surely not.
Neither am I unworthy
Of the pedestal you so gallantly adore.
Cast away, cast away
Your aspersions; they shall burn
In the blaze of my resolve.
I’m not scorned, neither do I seek vengeance
I only seek to silence
The scheming voice in your mind,
That blinds you to my makings.
Henceforth I break your bonds.
Do I see you tremble?
Behind the façade of bravado,
Hear, hear, your diffidence shows!
Do not make me reiterate
My avowal to turn my fate around.
I dare you, I shall not be buried.

...........................................................................................................
More thorns than petals much, eh? Oh dear. 

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Unnamed, Unknown...


“I wish I could be like you.”

Words. Meaningless, utterly hypocritical. Do they even know what they are talking about?

She could have stated her mind. She simply chooses to smile in response.

“You’re flattering me.”

She knows they only want to be at the same receiving end as her. So does everyone else.

...

It’s strange. Fear is all pervasive. And more than anything else, it is the fear of rejection that permeates through the strongest wills.

No wonder, the dying art of being oneself...

She is no exception to the rule. The flame of accomplishment has engulfed her entirely.

But she knows who she is.

It takes her a mere glance in someone’s eyes to figure they had already traded their souls for the drudgery of a cut-throat life.

“You...you really don’t know what you truly desire, do you?”

A sigh, often a sad smile in response. Voice tingling with untold emotions.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

...

Victim. An ugly word – speaking of injustice and aggravation meted out from the hands of others.

Who dares to call destiny the victimiser?

 “No one gets you. How can you be so calm in the face of such provocation?”

She smiles yet again.

“I don’t believe in others controlling me. I call the shots.”

...

“Who has the time to waste after such frivolities?”

She sighs. Those blind, ignorant creatures, audacious enough to call something as basic as pleasure, 
scratch that, satisfaction as ‘frivolous’.

They don’t know when their own grave will catch up with them, forcing them to lie forever in the cold gloom while they had hardly begun to clutch at the warm sunshine.

“Perhaps you would live...if only others chose to do the same.”

...

Eyes closed, breath withdrawn...she tiptoes, arms stretched wide, hair fluttering in the breeze.

The world before her is still, bathed in the effervescent glow of nature.

She’s a part of that world.

She doesn’t belong here.

“If only I look as good as...”

She laughs mockingly. This time she doesn’t mince her words.

“Look within or you will be another living mannequin.”

...

“Help me. I’m lost.”

She searches their eyes, ‘the window to the soul’. The fire has died.

She looks away.

“Even if I were to help...you would be lost again.”

...

“I need another chance.”

She pins them with a questioning look.

“Chance? What did you with the one already given?”

Obstinacy finds its way here too.

“We haven’t lived for ourselves. No one does.”

“Then why need another life?”

...

“I don’t want to die.”

“Why?”

“Because, because...there’s no reason why one would leave life!”

Her eyes are downcast as she mulls.

“You’re in love with yourself.”

Confusion. Puzzlement. Isn’t one supposed to love oneself first?

She smiles, softly, gently. Like an angel. Like a fairy.

“You’re not the role, as memorable as it might be.”

The role is cast away. The essence glimmers.

Her eyes close.

...........................................................................................................

I wonder how much it makes sense. Oh well, but I had to post this. 

Monday, July 11, 2011

Love Enchained



Wound my heart, sear my soul,
Did I not claim I was yours to take?
Like a lovely rose drawing blood
With its piercing thorns,
Your embrace stings me to the core,
And yet…I remain where I am.
Your insidious lust binds me
I sing of chaste love, blithely
Ignorant of those bonds
That ravage me of my strength
Only to be immersed
In the inferno of your self.
Flames tinged with the dying blush
Of fading memories, speaking of days
Humane and generous in their wake,
Your reflection is distorted,
Your spirit is singed.
In your pursuit of dominance,
Making me a willing slave
Would my demise sate your thirst?
Nothing more would please
My twisted yearning for vengeance
Than to see you lost
In self-immolation
Oh, would I not forsake my fragile existence!
To see you soaked in my life-blood,
So near and yet so far…
Your endeavour could never make me yours.

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No, I didn't think I could write something like this. Call it expiation, call it catharsis, I don't know how to define it. 
That said, I shall only reappear when the rains are kind enough to nurture the sapling of creativity to the fullest. :)