A Drifter's Ballet

Dance with me, my friend, for we are

Lost pieces of the puzzle, a blasphemy in itself,

That perhaps the god put right, yet afar

Stood so fond, the devious elf

And yielded upon us the melodious song

Of forbidden verses, to which we do not belong

So dance with me, my friend, for we are

Partners in crime brought together in despair,

Struggling for life, surviving for the next war

Like flickering sparks flaring through moist air.

Dance for once to this exuberance, this enticing plot

That never fails to torment, a torment unsought!

Dance with me, my friend, for we are

Ghosts of the oblivion, forgotten by all.

Yet reminded of the other by the falling star

In corners of dark rooms, through windows that stroll

And flow in trance and in ecstasy of time and space,

Inspiring a dream devoid of reality, an evasive face!

But wait! Hold your spell for a life longer, and your dance

For a music wiser, for this as well may again

Be desperation’s trap, a deceptive chance

For once the devious elf is spun out, what may remain

Without a sin, of the partners of crime, of the ghosts,

Of us, when despair and anger are no longer our hosts?

The Waking Paradox

So, you have a dream, evasive as it can be, like everyone else’s – not only good, but perfect. You have embarked on your heartless journey to this mindless conundrum. The inflexibly insatiable holes on the pavement challenge your belief, and sooner than now, more than often you realize that ‘good’ would have been enough. You realize that perfection comes at a cost, a perfect cost!

You do what you can to fight the big plan, you punch holes through the walls of destiny, break your only pair hands in doing so. What next? A sweet surrender! Amused, yet silently raged you add a hint of imperfection to the bowl, a nuance of what could have been – replaced by that should be.

But this is not the end is it, then? The creator throws in uncountable events, glamorously garnished with unbearable emotions, but the devil always comes to rescue. You know the solution – Replace the perfection, the best thing with the next best thing. That what used to be a struggle has become a habit, effortlessly painful in execution.

The apparent death of the originality of your dream, in its wake, leaves behind a question of undeniable significance, and of no use whatsoever! The question – “what next?” You try to crawl under, rise over this question. But there’s no escape. You try to hide and there appear a million doors with a single key. You try to turn behind, and there’s just one door with a million keys. All that remains of your life is a paradox!

This is who I am – The waking paradox. All that remains around me is a tantalizing imperfection, an unattainable desire that I never really wanted. This is the paradox – you can’t have what you seem to want.

End 1 (Practical, Intellectual)

Time to put it to use! What if I let go of the existing dream, and envision something entirely new and, to the extent, greater than the previous. Will it in anyway influence the cosmological presence of this dream, its existence in time? Can the fabric of timeless desires be bent? Will the setting free of this dream deny it of the existent evasiveness? Do you not easily find that what is not sought?

End 2 (Poetic, Philosophical)

All said and done, I am no longer content in being a soldier of heaven. These humanly streets amaze me to the level of an exceptional sadness. Let the devil be one with my being, let him take me over. This is not surrender. But I will not be resting on the pedestal of agony any longer. I do not wish to fight anymore. End this war, even if the battlefield has to be washed in my blood. Tear my body to pieces. Turn my love and hate to petty incidents of fading intensity. But leave my soul in peace! Let its essence rest in a place of no religion, of no further ascension.