The path we follow
Among these hunters,
Will be our doom.
For our hearts are made of clay,
And for all our similarities,
Theirs are made of iron.
– Arsh
Death do us part
Crimes of passion run amok,
Spreading chaos through the land.
Yet this bubble of peace
We have found ourselves in,
Remains untouched.
We might not live forever,
Nor would I ever want to.
Yet for the time that I still live,
I will spend it with us together,
Until death do us part.
– Arsh
Day Thirty: Waltzing Masquerade
In this ballroom,
They are bride and groom.
But it truly seems,
That this arrangement attracts doom.
For they are but puppets,
Forced to dance on a never-ending stage,
So they play their parts to perfection,
Praying that someday,
Things will change.
For whom are you putting on this act?
To which great masquerade artist
Are you trying to prove yourself?
– Maya Desdemona
Expectations
Call me around to
Your point of view,
I'll sigh and just follow.
It's exasperating,
Infuriating,
Yet it's all I know.
Taking more and more,
I've given everything I have,
What more do you want of me?
– Arsh
Day Twenty Nine: On Belonging
I have never understood the concept of 'belonging'.
How could any thing,
Or being of this planet be assigned to anything?
Who would decide that?
What would it mean to that person?
I have noticed that it often becomes a part of their personality,
But what is its relevance?
What is this 'belonging' to begin with?
– Maya Desdemona
Day Twenty Eight: Prison Pastimes
Pessoa once wrote
In his Book of Disquiet,
That "Only the imprisoned,
With the fascination
Of someone watching ants,
Would pay such attention
To one shifting ray of sunlight."
At first I begged to differ,
Stating my reasoning
That great poets were never once caged,
But the more I thought on the matter
The clearer it seemed to me,
That the only cage holding such a poet
Is one of his own decree.
– Maya Desdemona
Day Twenty Seven: Clockwork
Your mechanical typing
Truly resembles clockwork.
Although I am aware
That you are, at present,
Heartlessly and mindlessly at work,
I cannot help but compare you to clockwork.
The many gears of your mind are turning,
Your hands continually typing,
Your soul is now nonexistent,
And your heart seems to have failing power.
Such a lively person so lifeless,
Can even strike something called pity,
Yet I know you well,
And can only cackle at your half-heartedness.
But my, What is this?
It seems my laughter has raised your spirits,
And now you happily chat with me,
While your work lays forgotten.
– Maya Desdemona
Understanding
Claustrophobic expectations
Set the tone for how things will go.
Making things up just to
Set the score down evenly.
Understanding anomalies
Is a way to make us all insane.
Not everything has an explanation,
Evocative imageries live endlessly on.
– Arsh
Day Twenty Six: Daydreaming
I am here,
Though my mind is anywhere but.
That mind refuses to be caged
In the tight confines of the cranium,
And freely roams the world.
The tragedies of Old
And comedies that are new
Are where you will find mine,
Forever seeking entertainment.
Oftentimes I wonder
Why it leaves me behind.
Take me with you, dear mind,
Don't leave the flesh behind on this planet.
Yet the mind will forever only watch,
Never feel the emotions that
It travels Fact and Fiction to see.
I suppose,
In this sense,
A closed cage is better than
Never feeling what one sees.
– Maya Desdemona
Life
In this life,
There are no beginnings or endings.
The journey is
The only thing we have,
So let's make it worth it.
– Arsh
Luminousis 