Tag Archives: death

Desolate

An angel fell
for a human,
with sad eyes,
the way the sky
seemed to look
before the rain,
the way the clouds
darkened and cast
shadows on the ground.
He fell for her
simple beauty and the way,
she smiled at the world
from the mirrors in the sky.

He yearned to be with her,
so the angel
for his love, ripped off
his wings and
offered his soul
to the devil,
to become human.
The devil was
a cunning joker,
he gave the angel
pain that lasted days,
days that were
fifteen years each
in the world of man.

But the person he
loved was a veiled bride,
kissed by death,
a black soul, and
had aged as the years passed,
when he writhed in agony,
to become a man.
She had loved,
and had married,
and bore children,
and had grown old,
and had died.

And had not come to know him.
And had not come to love him,
when he appeared screaming
in her dreams.

They say, they say that
the angel turned human,
still walks along the roads
of life, changing bodies,
and memories,
and lives,
looking for the soul
of the girl he loves.

He has yet to find her.

Death is Sweet Pleasure

I am dying.
Slowly, unlike how disease eats
away at my insides. Slowly.
I die everyday, in the mornings
when I wake, alone in my bed.
I die in the afternoons when
sceneries are painted blurs outside
the moving window. In my head
I die in the evenings, when
all is silent until I fall asleep.
I die of loneliness and envy,
of sadness and jealousy,
of loving and unloving,
I die with the thought of you
crossing my mind everytime I
close my eyes.
And I don’t mind it. Dying this way.
I don’t mind it all.

 

Last May

She is
the essence of
my nightmares.
In dark tales where my skin
is cold and the coffin
is empty.
We buried her last May,
and yet she still
finds her way out of the grave
and into my arms.

They don’t know the truth
about her and I.
In sweet nights last May I
loved her and she loved me.
Days before death took her
and put her to rest in
the earth under my feet,
I felt her warmth and
the life I was desperate
to keep.

And so, I murdered her last May,
I can still remember
her screams.
I recorded them and listen
to her voice every night,
and she lays asleep in my arms.
Rotting and falling apart
under my touch.
I kiss away the blood stains
from her empty eye sockets.

I killed her last May.
And at nights when I miss her I
dig away at her grave until I could
touch her. See her. Feel her.
I know she is watching me.
I can hear her voice in the wind,
and as I throw away the shovel and
push away the lid,
I can feel her white arms around my waist,
smell the scent of death on her skin.
And I succumb.

A Thought I Am Hoping Would Reach

I was surfing the net when I saw news of ISIS.

Now, being somebody who is not part of the faith or the country where this war is going on, I did not meddle that much. Sure, mom and I talked about it and shared our opinions over dinner and tea, but I tried not to dwell on the topic.

But reading the news, knowing how many people have already died, how even children were forced to join the killings, it sickens me. I have a little sister and I could imagine the kids cowering in fear from the death and gore around them. They could be the same age as her, or even younger. And when my little sister has dreams of ponies and magic and love, these children have nightmares, wide-eyed sleepless evenings with hands over their ears, or nothing at all.

The women who died, the sex slaves abused and raped in brothels, the men who load their guns with dreams of home and the people they lost, I know I’m not a part of their war, but I am human, and they are human, and we are human, and no matter what we do, these sad and terrible things will always haunt us. We could have helped. We could have done something. Anything.

But what do we do? We amuse ourselves with celebrities and lifestyle instead of opening our eyes to the real picture, to what is really going on.

If the ISIS are doing these barbaric things all in the name of “Allah”, then is it right and true? People have a way with going on the extremes for what they believe in. but if they say (and I know) that Allah is a loving and just God, then where is Allah in that? Where is God in that? Innocent Muslims who have no part on the ISIS are going through discrimination every single day just because of these…these animals who have no thought and are selfish and so monstrous!

If religion can spark such inhumane and barbaric actions, then the world would have been better off without religion after all.  (But this is just a thought.)

Because if people kill in the name of their gods, then what is the use? HUMAN LIVES ARE AT STAKE, not their gods. People must not meddle and try to proclaim their beliefs by destroying others. At the end of the day, we are all equal human beings.

If you could see those pictures, the pictures of dead bodies lined up side by side, and you realize that once upon a time, they had lives, you would realize how inhumane this is. How wrong everything is. Some of them would have been going to school, some of them would have been working, some of them would have been having so much to live for, but then, everything tumbled into ash and nothing just because of a single terrorist group who killed in the name of their crazed idealism.

And I know I can’t do anything except vent out my frustrations in this blog because I can see my little sister in all those children. I can see her in their tired eyes and their emaciated bodies and my heart just hurts. And some of those poor children were killed and beheaded and tortured. No. I can’t.

So I’m sorry if this is all I can do. I’m sorry if I pushed my opinion through this site. But I can’t stand to think that we’re not giving a damn about all those people. People die everyday, I know, but these innocent souls died in the most horrible, gruesome, monstrous, inhumane way possible. Rest in peace to our fallen brothers and sisters.

And God, if there is a God now, deliver us from evil.

LINKS to the news articles:

http://kickerdaily.com/female-kurdish-suicide-bomber-kills-dozens-to-slow-isis-advance-into-town/

http://kickerdaily.com/isis-beheads-kurdish-poster-girl-rehana-who-killed-100-jihadists/

http://kickerdaily.com/drug-crazed-isis-rape-slaughter-and-behead-children-in-kobane-report/

http://kickerdaily.com/more-than-800-killed-in-kobane-over-40-days-of-clashes-report/

Sleeping Beauty

Sleeping Beauty is lounging atop my bed.
And her lips are pink and soft,
and laced with stardust.
Her long blonde hair is
wrapped around her ivory skin,
stained with red.

Sleeping Beauty is lying dead atop my bed.
And I swear to God I did not kill her.
Her mouth tastes like cherries and wine,
and deadly poison. She mixed it herself.
Her wrists are slit and her chest cavity
is empty. Where is her heart?

Oh her heart is locked somewhere,
inside the castle with the ashes of spindles,
and screaming of lost souls.
Sleeping Beauty are you there? Or are you
haunting me? I’m looking for you.
I am alone in my bed.

Defender

And you have been shaken yet again,
from a love you have lost so many years ago.
With broken fingers you write the words forming
within your chest. Scrawled upon skin with
rusty razor blades.
And your sadness is like a burning ember thrust
into the wet hearth where your heart,
the battered, bleeding heart you had clawed
right out of your chest, beats slowly in stopping motion.
Igniting within a split second.
Burning until you have left yourself into the ashes.

And I have been remembering yet again,
the nights when screaming into cotton pillows,
and drinking prescription drugs,
and shattering vases until the floor was carpeted in
glass and dust made me sane.
When the pain made me sane.
And all I could think about is how
sad you are. How sad I am. How sad we are.
How the world has turned you into
a broken man, and I a hypocrite.
I have no truths left to say,

Except these next ten lines:
I want to die.
I want to know if I still have a reason to exist.
I want to stop the sorrow from eating you
from the inside out.
I want to save you from the demons
you can easily outsmart.
I want to lull you to sleep when the nightmares
make you scream in such fear.
I want to show you how much
this small piece of immortality can mean.

Under

They buried you today.
And I have no words left to say.
You have taken the voice within me
under the ground for no one to see,
all the tears I could give are nowhere,
nowhere to be found, would anyone care?
Oh maybe these tears are trailing with raindrops,
falling from the sky to land on the ground in plips and plops.
Silent like the screams of dying caterpillars and ants,
falling down from the leaves of drowning little plants.
Like the rain we once watched inside the dark
space of dry shelter within the evergreen park.
Or within the mossy earth under our feet,
or within the distance where horizons would never meet,
or absorbed by pale skin and cold hands,
left alone in a place where no one can stand.
Because I’d give up my life for yours,
I’d give up my life for yours.

Asleep

And you lay there
white and still and
beautiful like you always were
with the sun atop your head and
the moon behind your eyelids.
With diamonds on your head and
flowers around you blooming, smelling
like spring and summer and dew.
But cold. And dead. And gone.
Sleeping sleeping sleeping.
And I’m waiting for you to wake up.
You’re not waking up.

T R I X I E

(This poem is for Trixie A. Albano, one of my best friends, who died today October 2, 2014. May she rest in peace. I love you so much.)

I remember your laughter and the way your eyes would
twinkle with joy and the warmth
from your palms as you hold my hand
and we would walk through sun-stained memory lanes of
happy dreams all immersed into blue skies
and friendship.
I remember the way you would make
my day brighter with just one of your
happy little antics of fun and joking and
your voice in dreamy mixtures telling me how you would love
to teach children one day like your mom does
but you left her. You left us.
Left us to cry a thousand tears with only
pictures and memories of the sound of your voice
and how they said that you died because of
the heart that should have kept beating
how you died with your
dreams grazing your fingertips.
And how I wish I was the one
instead of you
because in this fucked up life where
I know I am losing
you could have won.
You would have been the winner.