It's all just a dream within a dream...

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  • gladiator001 34w


    And what am I doing wrong
    I feel like an ancient man
    Time has come to a halt
    This world has changed a lot
    We are hapless and aliens now
    Becoming worthless and obsolete
    with every passing hour
    In a gyre that has no bottom
    I am a victim of a free fall
    In a day dream of desires
    we are quietly sabotaged
    In wishes that can't come true
    wanting realities of someone else
    In a paradox never to be solved
    We suffer an enternal ambiguity
    What we know well we can't tell
    We are debris of an earthquake
    Shenanigans that we could guess
    Troubles that we could avert
    We hear voices of our souls
    But have forgotten what it was
    and what we could control
    is now far away from our grips
    Some hope to be filthy rich
    Some beg for derived love
    A necessity is in every heart
    Sun has come and gone
    Candles are burning in the dark
    A regret that became conscious
    A depravity that consumes us
    Prayers in hope for better days
    But some suffer like it is an art
    What can heal us completely
    Who can borrow our scars
    In a deep sludge of despair
    We are trapped between walls
    If life has any odd rationality
    If death is only a quicksand
    If anyone could remove this trap
    If our fears can make us strong
    For the path we walked alone
    For what day will be our doom
    or if any tragedy to be our home
    Will we remember if we ever lived
    hoping for some heaven or hell


  • gladiator001 35w


    You were there more or less
    In all that I could ever guess
    In leisure or in some duress
    Beyond any words to profess
    For grievances to any redress
    it was hard enough confess
    If touch could only caress
    and comfort a soul in mess

    You were there more or less
    Stranger of an unknown address
    Sometimes cursed, never blessed
    Your love was mostly suppressed
    hardly expressed, rarely impressed
    Closely held but never assessed
    blatantly desired to be possessed
    nascent enough to be obsessed

    You were there more or less
    In all the emotions worst or best
    In open caves or in a closed nest
    Like a storm that has no quest
    Hell grips you with an interest
    And a heaven you want to conquest
    But a pain that burdens your chest
    If you only knew when to rest

    You were there more or less
    Tired with a lack of persistence
    filling me with a hollow presence
    Empty with a chaotic existence
    In silence and in utter negligence
    In tormenting turns of turbulence
    If proximity made any difference
    along the silent infinity of distance


  • gladiator001 36w


    I have masticated your love
    for years and many more
    sometimes fast to never last
    and slow before it could grow
    It was luscious before
    Now it feels insipid
    My gums ache for days
    My cavities reek of rubber
    But I cannot take a break
    and I cannot throw it out
    neither can I swallow it
    Sometimes I feel it isn't there
    but there it is in denial
    and I know it is a redundancy
    and I know my redundancy
    Flavors that are gone in haste
    If my tongue can taste
    and I keep on asking myself
    why I don't feel hunger
    Why don't I crave for
    something else now
    My hunger is in satiation
    and I don't remember
    what I had tasted before


  • gladiator001 39w


    Before I say it is a lost cause
    and scatter my soul into trails of pain
    Into a prison I must fall from paradise
    I must learn from unlearned ways
    or be a ship wrecked from the storms
    or be paper boats diving into ponds
    or be kites torn by kites into a fateless flight,
    To tend my thrill to end some plight
    Or end all plights in convenient ways,
    But I must believe that suffering is a need
    and gather words that define a book,
    Or empathize with someone's emotions
    Or take advice that wise men left behind,

    Before I sign the treaty of my internal
    wars and undesired defeats,
    I must find cure for my shocks,
    and seek the path to my soul,
    hide from madness that struck me,
    Or witness the transition of kings turned to slaves
    I will take into consideration of what
    cannot be controlled
    and see the wisdom in what I was told,
    I will hold onto little hope and see it bloom,
    to take cognizance of my own destructions
    and build a nest which will be destroyed anyways

    Before I turn blind by looking into eyes
    Or dive into the deepest oceans of void,
    I will point to constellation of my doom,
    Or search myself in my own shadows,
    Build a mirror of my own inactions,
    By taking respite in false assumptions
    a jeopardy I nurtured for so long,
    But I will watch the tolerance taken from
    cradle to grave
    and invisible burdens that men carry
    and of expectations that cannot be met,
    I will ignore the possibilities of escape
    and endure hardships that all must face.


  • gladiator001 39w


    There are tragedies
    that keep on repeating,
    Time only accumulates them
    and they drag you to abyss,
    taking away a chunk of soul
    with every passing moment,
    The worst of all sorrows
    are frequent in later years,
    but remember years ago
    When everything was slow
    We rushed to plethora of
    conclusions and deeds,
    We deemed that freedom
    exists and prevails everywhere,
    We were untamed waves
    gone mad in the sea of youth
    pertubed to reach moon
    Adrenaline accelerated in veins
    blatant thrill was pure
    Blood felt like water
    and air felt like a mirror of ourselves,
    We were blessed with troubles
    and challenges greeted us
    with low bow in fortitude
    When world was trampled
    by our simple force of attitude
    When sky was in our hands
    We sought tornadoes for rain
    We stood against despair
    and the curse of tomorrow
    and blinded by momentum,
    We barked against familiarity
    and licked the hands of the strange
    We would run to the hills
    to see the horizons of the end
    Desires bloomed in us
    and we smashed the tormenting
    reality like glass bottles
    with guns of rebellion,
    The fashion, the art and the
    technology was in our grasp
    and we molded it to our taste
    We took upon the burden of change
    We took freedom to our chains
    We gave structures to dreams
    and hope was utterly tangible
    But like many things that
    man cannot change,
    Like rivers that alters course
    when confronted with a mountain
    Our endeavors were of the masters
    But eventually we were puppets
    who were dancing to the tune
    Eventhough now time is still slow
    We have learned to know
    of the existence of hard walls
    and of hidden doors
    where no one goes...


  • gladiator001 40w


    Lying there at some busy desk
    in still darkness of an eternal rest
    A secret of a strangers heart
    A burden that sought a quest

    In many hands it was held
    All the troubles that were felt
    Untraceable work of an anonymous
    Unknown truths were to be revealed

    What enigma was poured all over
    or was it a scribble of an excited lover
    Were words bonded into an emotion
    and slipped innocuously in a cover

    It's ownership was yet to claim
    It's was a shame that no one came
    With passing time it was lost in a pile
    and just as oblivious it became

    Was it some man's blunt mistake
    Who never knew what's at stake
    Was it mediocre enough to be ignored
    Whose poor heart was it to break

    Who knew of its terrible fate
    and of misfortunes that await
    How days fold into wasted years
    Time was now arduous to locate

    But a quaint doom it had earned
    It was neither read, torn nor burned
    Neither was it lost or found
    Its contents were never learned

    When oneday it vanished to nowhere
    They pursued it to their worst despair
    It was beyond any man's reach forever
    But a cognizance was felt in the air


  • gladiator001 40w


    Said a friendly bee
    To me
    On a bright blue day
    Near a window pane
    I like your work
    and I like you to work
    With me
    for free,
    Sky is the path
    Under sun's wrath
    As you can see
    Honey is money
    for us
    and we have it a lot
    For we are honeybees
    that seek flowers
    from garden
    that was never ours
    Millions work
    Without perks
    Including me
    for the queen
    And we have a world
    A complex domain
    I can't explain
    If we are owners
    or slaves inherently
    or a non profit organization
    But we are
    What we are
    Sad but true
    What say you !


  • gladiator001 49w


    With patched pockets and worn out
    clothes and empty closets,
    With cold food in the fridge,
    Billion ideas in the troubled skull
    He writes of impulse and caprice,
    of prison cells and of suicides,
    He states suffering never ends,
    The critics love him and push him
    to clouds of appreciation
    He defies fate and endings,
    A sensation of words he conjures
    There is a revolt that young
    minds carry of raw living,
    To fight wars and end poverty
    To loot the rich and gift the poor
    Blood is warm inside the skin and thoughts form without jurisdictions
    The newspapers publish his
    novel work on inside pages,
    secretly mentioned in pulp magazines with complete anonymity
    Popularity roams around him now
    He writes now of global threats
    and nature's wrath
    But I can see the loss of touch
    of art and creativity
    The spark is lost in the oblivion
    His paragraphs are long and reek
    of stress and are shallow
    On computers, drafts are saved,
    papers are thrown into the dustbin
    Cigarettes have been burned day and night
    Carpets ruined and walls scribbled
    Whiskey spilled on the floor
    Eyes have closed but he hasn't slept
    this month
    It feels as if all doors are closed
    He cannot dig any deeper
    There are no diamonds in the sand.
    These lands of famine turn to desert
    There is the torture of sun
    and the infinity of wastelands
    Through all the tormenting years
    he never cried, not even once
    His soul has gathered ignorance to catch mirages in the darkness.


  • gladiator001 50w

    The artist

    These young artists
    that cut their ears,
    Who sleep with cockroaches
    in their mouth
    Their hands tremble with ideas
    They shed like trees in a storm
    Rainwater leaks through in their kitchen
    The soul shakes all year round
    I gave money to him , that man
    whose hands always smells of
    gasoline and cheap liquor,
    He drew my brother's portrait
    sitting in an open restaurant looking
    at the menu and smoke from the kitchen
    He was about to order something
    and was waiting for someone there
    I will never know my brother so well
    The memories are like spilled ink
    that don't fade with scrubbing
    I go there once in a while to that restaurant
    and order something and pretend to
    be waiting for someone while smoke fills trees,
    The drunk artist lives above the restaurant,
    who works with only minimum colours,
    and sometimes in a monotonous smile.
    That bald headed orphan with no visitors
    Yet I have seen people come to him
    with tales of grief and sadness
    He seems to absorb pain
    Like sponge capturing water
    These poor artists, they can feel
    ecstacy but always are trapped
    Their eyes are heavy and their
    backbone permanently bent
    what was meant to be of them.


  • gladiator001 54w


    Age is a slow poison of time
    Years that I carry as a burden
    I am losing something daily
    from my soul to some shadows
    Our graves of empty bodies
    Defeat is not a matter a shame
    Some barriers that we cannot cross
    Growth has lost significance
    My bones have become stiff
    All dreams have vanished in the night
    My thoughts remain confined
    There is no satisfaction yet there is
    no unhappiness to deal with
    Achievements are mere words now
    Or have I achieved nothing
    But there is no more enthusiasm
    there is no wild adventure
    There is no rebellion to change
    Passion is withering in stages
    Nerves on my skin are dead
    My spine doesn't feel a chill
    Danger is just another word
    Risk seems impossible to undertake
    Necessities have become less
    I am dead before I am dead
    There is no apprehension of failure
    There is no regret of missed opportunities
    I aspire for no smell from gardens
    All the flowers are dead to me
    I don't care for serene lakes and seas
    I do not crave for rain and rainbows
    I do not care for the subtle meaning
    My blood is cold and it flows slow
    Eyes dont bother for boundless yonder
    Dimensions in life that avert alterations
    and prevail to be only permanent
    All the changes that submit to destiny
    In the end nothing can change me