In the throes of sadness most of us seek refuge in the apparitions of our own minds. The comfort of humanity seems inadequate most of the time and we seek to seclude ourselves from the world. This is about one such nihilistic venture of a writer with his own solitude and hopelessness.
There is something amusing,
Something thus captivating in silences.
The room is breathing, the clock ticking;
All in harmony with my lonesome retreat.
I hear the wail of sirens from afar,
At my lost abode seeking thus refuge.
I am but with myself, in deep resolve,
As thoughts flow through my soul.
I am here in the sanctum,
Of my own pantheon of imagination.
Seeking for friends in Darkness and Solitude,
For I believe they’d never leave my side.
I speak with them, these apparitions,
Like a rabid dog, chasing its own shadow.
“O Darkness, how art thee?
Solemn admirer of me.”
“Why won’t you let me be?
Take these disturbing thoughts with thee.”
Darkness thus replies, “In thou I find,
A reservoir of deep sadness, without thee I cannot be.”
Am I being suited and seduced by thee?
O Darkness, why doth thou so woo me?
“In you I see a sanctity of sorts,” Darkness replies,
“Someone who holds me close, never seems to let me go.”
I sit and ponder at what Darkness did say,
He is a lover of mine, I a lover of thee.
Without Him I realise I do feel incomplete.
I wish my lovers would stay like You,
Unflinching in devotion, yet I know you;
You are but a poison to my soul.
My eyes are tired and waning,
I must pursue tender sleep.
As I repose I ask him this,
I ask him whether come ‘morrow he’d pay a visit.
He but smiles with content, Darkness;
He knew without Him, I am but vain.
Maybe a soulmate or friend I thus find,
In these sombre moments, Darkness shall forever be mine.
I thus close my eyes,
Awaiting a new dawn.
I thus fall into deep slumber,
For now I must bid thee adieu.