The Dictum

Materialism is a lie. It is a delusional lie and it should not be leading the culture. Not when we are spiritual beings.

Gigi Young

The Right Abode

At the station of doubts, I looked for the wheels of the answer's train. Colliding with people alike, Our luggage carried the same weight. Watching many moving ahead, Towards their right abode, I tried to cater more time, hiding my defeated face.

I peeked inside each of the trains, Trying ensure that I wouldn’t drown, rather, someday sail. Lost in the lost crowd, I searched for an abode that my destiny had framed.

Finally, finding one down a new track, I tried to board it with all my luggage. The bags tossed away by the crowd, I found them etched with my fears’ name.

It was then I realised, I had ruined my life, Thinking they belonged to my unhealed pain.

~ark

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~ark

There were two reasons I was scared to let people in; the damage they could do, and the damage they could find.

Chris Mc Geown

And the highlighter of mundanity, Bathed the whole book.

~ark

Choice

I waited when I wasn't spoken to

I waited for my turn

I was just an option after all waiting to be chosen

To be the answer the correct one

Wasn't it important to change for the question?

Patience is the key they say

But why was I expecting to be the one?

Life is a reflection of our choices

When did I choose to become an option?

~ark

They'll Too

The situation I had been in, Was the situation they were in. I wanted to warn them, As I already knew the end, But I decided against it. As I was the one who ignored the warnings too, And I knew they'll too. Thinking, The way I realised, They'll realise too. The way I learned, They'll learn too.

~ark

My Memories

I was patient, or so I thought. I counted every moment, To witness the thing, I yearned to see for long. But it came and ended so soon. Glimpses danced in my mind, While I waited for it once again. My tears that reflected the luminescence of my moon, Refused to fall, as the memories would drain too. The future became the past, My mind mourning at the memorials, Eyes blinded by hopes, Should I consider my comfort a curse or a boon?

~ark

To be Admired

A source of light  Untouched, sacred and pure  I burn myself every moment To mark the beginning and the end of every day Everyone saw the world around, I made sure.

But a thought lingered somewhere, A desire. To be loved like the moon, to be admired Maybe I am unworthy of it I lack it's allure Never the sight to behold People look away, scorching under my gaze I hate myself then All I wanted was someone who would look my way.

To shine like the sun, first burn like it I am an inspiration but not a sight of admiration That I longed for Like the umbrella after the rain Bandage after the wound heals They are never acknowledged, Because, They aren't wants but needs 

I am untouched, sacred and pure Not a mere source of light I smile at the realisation  I am the source of life after all.

Guilt

The urge to remain where we are, not wanting to move, not wanting to change and then feeling guilty for not achieving, for not changing, for not beginning, for not ending, for not continuing.

Standing in front of the mirror yet avoiding it to not witness the failure achieved, to avoid the reflection of the coward who refused to give the best, who chose to ignore everything.

The guilt of not putting efforts and then reading the disappointed expressions hidden beneath the acts of consolation. To show that you worked when you never did and when they say, “At least you gave your best. That’s what matters” 

How do you break it to them? How do you present your cowardness, your lethargy, your unfaithfulness. And then, you opt for a path you never thought you would take. You become something with a void building within. All the emotions that were never expressed eventually stop hurting, they become a habit. The void gradually growing consumes all the emotions leaving a creature too selfish to even care. Showing acceptance for something you should’ve fought harder for but you leave it, you leave yourself where you were.

But in all of this, one thing remains,

The guilt of not feeling guilty. The constant war to define it, to categorise it as justification or an excuse. But these words seem inappropriate, what do you think would fit?

Cowardice, distracted, remiss or the inertia of not moving ahead from the information to know the difference to the wisdom of making one?