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Hey!! This is Philoanna a.k.a Arundhati Chaudhuri.. This is my blog spot, so i wouldn't really want to describe myself here, because I would like my work to speak for myself. I hope you enjoy reading my blog posts and don't forget to drop a comment after you finish reading my works, because I would love to have your criticism, and aim for your appreciation. Also, share your ideas and perspectives with me on the topics I've written on if you'd like to =) Happy Reading! " How fortunate are you and I whose home is timelessness: we who have wandered down fragrant mountains of eternal now; to frolic in such mysteries as birth and death a day ( or maybe even less )" - e.e cummings
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Saturday, July 31, 2010

Disturbed Song of Melancholy




My hands are shivering,
I'm freezing,
The pain is making me numb,
I have to succumb.
Distorted reality,
My vision's turning blurry,
I am choking on my tears,
Living in constant fear.

The blade digs deeper,
My skin breathes slower,
Wine red blood crawling slow,
A black and white rainbow.
The music is dying,
I can only hear the screaming,
Dark memories are revisiting,
My head, no, my heart is aching.

My emotions have drained,
My clothes are blood-stained,
Suppressed memories resurface,
I guess they were never erased.
I reach for the bottle,
Is this dose lethal?
As long as I forget,
There's nothing to fret.

The colors are blinding me,
Or am I just dreamy?
I can hear you calling me,
But I know its only insanity.
The lights above me are melting,
I feel the heat, its burning,
Your hazy face in the distance,
God's another act of vengeance?

Tears stream down my face,
Why are you so hard to efface?
Every morning I say a prayer,
Every night it ends in a nightmare.
I'm delusional, I'm paranoid,
I'm broken, I'm destroyed.
I put on a mask and live a lie,
A life of denial and wry.

Ephesians 4:32- The Holy Bible,
The tickle of cold metal,
The cross on my sweaty palm,
My skin deep wound balm.
My suffering has battered me,
Enlightened me, bettered me,
But I still walk silently in darkness,
For a healing of blitheness.

I know that I will oneday,
Speak the words left unsaid,
Wipe the tears off glum faces,
Lend my comfort to those in bruises.
But, till then-
Will I have to bear this bane?
Will noone feel my pain?
Do I have to play this game?