part 2:

The Room

BreathingRoom

I’m watching myself fall.

As their sockets tighten

My eyes remain penned.

The shards in my mind

Have scarred me away

I had dreamt to find

Now I am bound to stay.

Kept it choked,

I drowned my breath

Now I leave my throat

Gasping in the depths.

Littered with remnants

Embers still threatening.

The world now a cage,

More bars in its cell

Every war it waged.

Be my escape,

Rescue my faith.

Entrapping patterns

At the hide of my face.

These choking cycles

Have murdered my rest

Even my breath wants out of my chest.


The Lie Lacks Purity

Begs for certainty against the stares

Of anaemic walls enclosing

The lone lilac blurred by their glare

Lies I’ve forged to answer the prayers

As attempts to soothe the echoing

Begs for certainty against the stares

Lies of deceit to quieten the scares

Of sanity by betraying

The lone lilac blurred by their glare

I’m anxious to descend down there

Where governing shades are forcing

Begs for certainty against the stares

With the vapidity that my room wears

The bare banal walls are boldening

The lone lilac blurred by their glare

If my lost eyes were to replace this pair

I’d see the pure purple petals impeding

Begs for certainty against the stares

Of the pure lilac blurred by their glare


Promises

A flower’s promise

Was all it took

It shook away the world

And now away I look

It said to understand this world

On occasion, one must turn away

And so with the promises of exhales

I left the trees

The stroll began and finished

Before my feet could catch me

Before I could blink twice,

The white seized my eyes

Alone not to be lonely, they say

But to be you with yourself

Not to be lonely

But to be yourself with your mind

How about both?

Not only for solitude

But to overcome the overwhelm

And for loneliness to seep through

Loneliness promises a response

A variation from the numbness

A motivating mechanism from

These days that have turned soporific

What I wouldn’t give for the response

To loneliness

I had begun to sink

Within the white sheets

Of the bed

The flower had promised me more than just rest

It had been days but only now

Do I know

That rest expires

As soon as night goes

I was grateful to sleep

Enveloped by the bed

But as lights simmered on

I heard what the bright said

You try to thin your eyes

But I have already entered

Your bones submitted to my rest

And soon the rest of you will surrender

A flower’s promise

Was all it took

It shook away the world

And away I looked

With little hesitation

Without blinking twice

Without ensuring the flower

Wasn’t a trick on the eyes


interlude ii

The Train

The only way to deal with an unfree world,

is to be so absolutely free

that your very existence

is an act of rebellion.

---

The floor shifted underfoot

Rocking from right to left

Throwing the passengers around

And they swayed in content

In every coach neatly lined up

If you were to glimpse inside

You would see the pale passengers

With their blissful eyes

As you peeked behind each set of curtains

And saw faces alike

You would reach the front of the train

But miss a man perfectly disguised

Seated in the seventh row

Of the eleventh coach

With his eyes against the window

Is a peculiar man

Although he seems alike

To the other faces

With his blissful poise

His eyes reveal traces

The man in the seventh row

Of the eleventh coach

With his eyes against the window

Sits assured

With his hands resting on his lap

And gaze fixed on the harsh snow

He knows that by accepting

He quietly revolts

Seated in the eighth row

Of the eleventh coach

With his eyes furrowed

Is a stubborn man

Having sat next to the man behind

For only moments before being deterred

By the stories the peculiar man told

Of mountains meaningless and absurd

The man in the eighth row

Of the eleventh coach

With his eyes furrowed

Is disturbed

With his hands clasped around his pendant

He disregards the thought as it bleeds

But the thought forces through

And he wonders where this train leads

Seated in the sixth row

Of the eleventh coach

With his eyes looming low

Is a tired man

His hands hiding beneath his coat

He had heard the story the peculiar man told

He had heard it before and it followed him close

Now pressed against his wrist, the thin blade felt cold

The man in the sixth row

Of the eleventh coach

With his eyes looming low

Is astray

Despite now knowing where this train leads

He begins to contemplate

Whether the arrival

Is really worth the wait.


Image Source: Gemini AI

a poorly sealed hole in the wall

I noticed something that day

Day? Yes, “day” I would say.

The white walls surrounding my eyes

Seemed aglow with a different shade.

As I lay quietly on the bed

Bed? Yes, it cushioned my head.

The white walls surrounding my eyes

Seemed off-white as the light wouldn’t spread.

The walls were dimmer than before

Before? Yes, today is that tomorrow, I am sure.

The white walls surrounding my eyes

Instead glistened with a light that was pure.

Unlike the harsh rays from above

Above? Yes, even though I haven’t looked up.

The white walls surrounding my eyes

Were the bright that was once loved.

The bright of which I had lost sight

Sight? Yes, these eyes are mine.

The white walls surrounding my eyes

Were blotched by a hole on the right.

And the light came gushing inside

Inside? Yes, I am on one of two sides.

The white walls surrounding my eyes

Through the cavity that defied.

An attempt to patch up the hole,

An attempt to cover and control

The outside as it quietly crept

But the plaster was a poor attempt,

Peeling and flaking and a terrible shade,

Distinctly astray to the hue it overlayed.

And therefore, all that was finally made

In the wall was a hole

Hole?

No,

An escape.


Image Source: Gemini AI

Thoughts of Freedom

Time brought dark

Time brought thoughts

Thoughts that flared

Thoughts that tipped

Tipped me over

Tipped me towards

Towards the escape

Towards the light

Light streams in

Light screams out

Out of my heart

Out of my mind

Mind the bed

Mind the walls

Walls still banal

Walls close in

In this room

In my rest

Rest is leaving

Rest has left

Left me stranded

Left me beset

Beset by the thought

Beset by the chance

Chance to return

Chance to turn back

Back to expression

Back to colour

Colour-in my world

Colour in my eyes

Eyes I have lost

Eyes that could find

Find a shard

Find a land

Land unlike old

Land free of trees

Trees nor streams

Trees nor mountains

Mountains nor flames

Mountains nor cycles

Cycles suppressed

Cycles broken

Broken before made

Broken to ensure

Ensure I avoid

Ensure I escape

Escape to a haven

Escape but ignorant

Ignorant with freedom

Ignorant of chaos

Chaos

Freedom


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part 1

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part 3