memory of the past

After today, it was like deja vu. I realized I was on the same carousel that kept turning around. The faces weren’t exactly the same but they were familiar characters in a tragic fairy tale where I was the poor protagonist. I know that sounds redundant. But that is exactly where I am.

By tomorrow, I shall walk on the same aisle going to a different hell. I will drag my feet to that hole just like what I do each day. The things that comfort me then do not shield me anymore. My dwarfs are gone. My armor is wounded. It is hard to admit defeat. Defeat because I know all my moves will revert back to losing my king. I have few moves left now.

I would just like you to know – that the feeling is mutual.

A creation

He’s not like any body
So pale like nobody
He lived before till now
That of which in the darkness of owl

You wouldn’t dare be like him
And perform his night scheme
But I guarantee this
His magic you wouldn’t want to miss

He is a killer – cold blood
And passion is red blood
He thirsts and wants
And life he lusts

He is so lovely for a being
Who was once a human being
He is immortal addressed often as “man”
… though he is not human

 

 

 

photo credit: http://weknowyourdreams.com