Melancholia

                                                                                                                                                                                          In a world so vast and wide, I am but a lonely soul, An orphaned child with none beside, My heart aching, never whole. Abandoned by those who brought me here, Left to fend for myself alone, No family, no friends, no one near, To call my own, to call my home. In the dark, I cry out in pain, Longing for a warm embrace, But all I feel is cold an...

 The ever going trail of water, Moves along ever so slow, In a direction so very certain, On a path of gentle flow. The link of life and water seen, In the dark with its ethereal glow, Going along in it's highs, Moving undisturbed in it's lows. When the journey seems daunting, The only utterance heard, no. Allness returns to the roots, The essence of life's very dough.

  The world kept going on, As I was locked up in a hole. The sound of her calm voice, Stuck in my ear mole. Wasted away at a pole, Pulled apart from my sole, As I lay miles apart from my love, The one who filled my soul. Young love strays from reality, The heat of life's unrefined coal. The hoax of happy endings, Were nothing but a dole. Dreams of our future together, Nothing but a delusional goal, Miles apart from my love, The one who made me whole.

  The ringing bells of life, Forever stop tolling As I stand at the edge And feel the heavens calling The moon's shining brightest  On my darkest night the mortal sins of the past Faced with every ounce of my might No dark without light, No bark without bite, No conquests in life or death, Without a distant sight Washed over with the peace, Of the stillness of the dark If I could have one more chance, O lord ,thou must Hark As I step over the edge, Contemplating the ghosts of my past, This grave sin shall be paid for, in perhaps the next life, Of this eternal misery we reach the last.

He couldn't fathom how this could happen to him, why fate would be so cruel as to tear his parents away from him. He was consumed by overwhelming feelings of confusion, betrayal, and despair. He felt like he had nothing left to live for, like his entire world had been ripped away from him and he was left adrift in a sea of emptiness and despair.  The following days were a blur for Luka as he struggled to come to terms with his loss. He stopped going to classes and stopped eating and sleeping. His grades began to drop, and his health began to deteriorate. He became consumed by thoughts of suicide, and began to plan his own death. He tried to seek help, but found it hard to open up to anyone about his feelings. He felt like no one could understand what he was going through and that he was too smart for anyone to be able to help him. He isolated himself from the world, spending most of his time locked in his room. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, Luka...

My heart is shattered, my soul is torn, As I stand here, feeling forlorn. The love we shared, now just a memory, A beautiful dream, now a tragic story. I see your face, in every crowd, But you're not there, you're not around. I hear your voice, in every sound, But it's just an echo, that's never found. I remember the way you used to touch my hair, The way you whispered, that you'd always be there. But now the silence, is all I hear, And the emptiness, is all I fear. I cry at night, with no one to hold, I reach out for you, but you're not there to hold. I search for you, in every soul, But you're not there, you're gone, you're gone. My heart is broken, my soul is torn, As I stand here, feeling forlorn. But I will heal, I will move on, And find new love, when the time is dawn.

                                                       Intimate, a word so fair and sweet, A feeling that doth make the heart complete. A connection deep and true, A bond that's formed betwixt me and you. It's more than just a physical touch, It's a feeling that doth mean so much. It's a look, a smile, a whispered word, A feeling that doth not be blurred. It's a trust that's built with time and care, A love that doth the soul ensnare. It's a feeling that's hard to define, But it's one that doth forever be mine. It's a comfort in the darkest hours, A light that guides us through life's showers. It's a feeling that we both doth share, A love that's always there. Intimate, a word so pure and true, A feeling that will forever be new. It's a connection that words cannot express, A bond that's felt deep within the heart's recess.

                                                    For a tree's branches to reach heaven,  It's roots must reach hell. The vice of every man must be rid, with devilry and rebel. The ascent up the echelons, must levy upon it a heavy toll, For greatness achieved through sins atrocious, Is not greatness, but gore.

                                                                                                           Aflame with ambition, I am a tinder; Looking down upon the ungraceful cinders, In the swamp I am the largest gator, An unrivalled threat on land, In water the greatest predator. Rising from the ashes I am a phoenix reborn, Family and friends, long forlorn; Ripping prey to shreds with tenacity, Reawakened with unmatched perspicacity. Dead in the confines of the matrix; All they've ever done is play tricks; The rope sealing away omnipotence, severed. Now feared in every realm of human endeavor. I have grieved, I have cried; I have shivered, I have lied; In the eyes of this blinded world, inglorious; But I have gro...

  Lost among the skeptics of this high society, Where the snakes and the intimates look the same, Unable to keep apart friend and foe, In a leap of trust turning to only one face. It drains my soul, burns ardour to ash, Seeing the giver of my life, falling ever so apart. In the ranks of devotion, the lord stands woefully, Next to the true elixir of life, the vitalizer, the mother. When this fragile vessel can hold the soul no more, And the beings of this world must dissipate, The one who cradled me in her faithful breast, Her life untowardly becomes ever so delicate. When the sound resonation of her heart, Comes to an everlasting, melancholic end, The final breath the only abstract closure, In a life led incomplete, of an angel at heart. A tap on my shoulder, an earnest face looking up, Unbeknownst to the tragedy, asking for her mother I remain null in the anguish, reflecting to myself O lord, I cannot comprehend this crooked "fairness". Plunged into the darkness of oblivion,...

  "Luka, solve this one for me, will ya?" "It's the third one, and you're a freshman at 26, dumbass. Don't waste my time. " "What'd ya' say to me, ya' punk ass bitch?" "You heard it. And what are you gonna do about it?" This was pretty much the life of Luka Greenacre. Learning to speak at 4 months old, simple arithmetic at an year old, high school algebra at five, and advanced calculus at seven, he was what you would consider a prodigy. A freshman in Dartmouth at twelve, he was the youngest ever, the perfect SAT probably being the least impressive part of his resume.  Having written a research paper at 8 and filing his parents taxes when kids his age were learning to color inside the lines, egotistical was an understatement for him. Arrogance bursting through his veins, he put his peers down almost every opportunity he got. Perhaps the most valued at his school, no one really took action on the complaints against him. One ...

 In this mighty ocean laden with victors, Bringing wrath upon the ones laid to rout, Fallen not of their accord, But the cruel fate of their destiny Heavy is the heart crushed by defeat, Drowned in the emptiness of hatred and taunts, Lost in the pursuit of success, Grinding away at the wheel in this world of post truth Failure is but a step towards success, A portion of ill begotten fate forced upon, This wave of defeat shall be overcome, I will emerge victorious.

                                                                                                   Held up in the chamber of my faults, Covered in the blinding smoke of my conceit, Unable to look far beyond, to see, the light of the horizon dimming away Engulfed in the hope of a perfect queen, The serendipity of true love was all but lost for me. The one among thousands of thousands, Purloined by a lesser right in front of my eyes Scars running deep from the knife that bled out, The path of destiny carved out for me Torn apart from one another by unbeknownst forces, Our love never strong enough to shield the storm Locked in my kingdom of isolation, I only hope for her return, the one who made me complete But the heart that hopes is the heart...

 A swiss army knife. Military green in color, slightly rusted. A well dressed gentleman rapidly approached him as if on a mission, a sinister deadpan expression on his face with the thumping of his legs against the richly carpeted floors resonating across the mostly empty dining room of the hotel, holding a finger-sized green bar like object in his hand. Before either of them could react, the man sliced Matt in the neck . As the vision of his dining partners horrified face slowly dimmed away, Matt felt his soul leave his body as the precisely crafted instrument punctured his carotid. Death. A rather melancholic, argued upon subject. They say that even as a person dies, the soul lives on. Some say that the soul is the embodiment of the person and his deeds, which he is punished for in his lives. Karma. Others believe that the soul is a life force, merely a binding agent of the being. The undisputed truth amongst these indemonstrable beliefs, is that death is the end of all biologica...

  Imprisoned in the bastille of today, unbriefed on the realities of tomorrow, big hopes and dreams for the time to come, and the ever ringing sorrow of the fear of failure. These sharp pebbles along my path, some of them faces i recognize, the ones a stones throw from my heart, be the ones who truly circumscribe my calling, my vocation Every step along the way ; many golden pheasants,  bringing about fancy new hope by the horizon, but every second spent with the hoaxes, shills away the true path of the cognizant phoenix Many hearts aflame with ambition, of men confined in the matrix, each one aspiring to be the deviation, hoping to be different from the uttermost We are but imprisoned in the bastille of today, unbriefed on the realities of tomorrow, big hopes and dreams for the time to come, and the ever ringing sorrow of the fear of failure.

 I am the corner in this circle , that is the circle of life the unpleasant truth to be accepted Feared far and wide as death The difference between life and I Exceeds no more than a single breath Men far and wide try and push me along like the celestial bringer of darkness, but in their futile attempts forget, like the moon in the sky I return with time, and each minute brings them closer to their grave, every second passed is a step towards the reality of death The true peace men strive for, the equality of power and wealth, in its absence from the illusion of life, can be attained only in the awakening of a new horizon, the true embodiment of nothingness in the accursed reality, Peace is attained only at death In the well crafted fairytale of life, I am the transfer of worlds antagonized rather than celebrated, I am the release of the soul from the being Men hoping to prepare for the afterlife with Jesus and Allah, are greeted with the nullity of oblivion, emptiness after their ...

  They arrived at the hotel. It was a eerie castle like structure, made out of red bricks with it's ivy covered walls, the hotel from the outside, looked menacing and imposing. The windows were dark and and the light played tricks on your eyes.    "Room number 1313.Could you take our luggage upstairs please?". Stefan brought in the camera equipment and bags, giving them to the bellhop. The hotel lounge was big, empty and soulless .Even standing on the heated flooring, the place felt ghastly cold . Matt felt something was off. Everything in the hotel was quite normal, but he felt an eerie sense of desolation. Perhaps his imagination, but the staff seemed......disturbed. "Come on, let's get a move on Matt, we have to settle in and set up the camera equipment before it gets dark, it's 6:30 already ".He got into the elevator with Stefan, shrugging off his intuition. It was probably just his imagination. As they   got in to their room, the bellhop was wai...

 "What's all this haunted hotel voodoo doll crap?" Matt scorched his hand trying to light a fat cuban. His doctor told him it was bad for someone like him with a punctured lung, but he just couldn't get himself to quit. Sitting right across him in the cigar lounge, as a puff of smoke wafted into the air, Stefan King spoke ."The Omni homestead has a past, ya know .",as he gestured the waiter to bring him another scotch ."In 1766 ,the first year of the hotel, a wedding was scheduled .The nervous groom-to-be had second thoughts about the wedding, and he ran away .Heartbroken ,the bride took her own life on the 13th floor, hanging herself .Legends say that even today ,the spirit of the bride wanders at night on the 13th floor, asking people the time, waiting for the groom to return".                    "Regardless, you have to help me in my documentary, you have no choice" Stefan said .Crazy about horror stories ,he fancied himself a pa...