Letters of despair ....

As I write these letters,

I know these words will be lost forever. 

No one will ever read them, no one will ever know my story.

I will always be, what I thought i will be. 

Lost in a sea of people. Lost and forgotten. 

But at least these pages will know my story. 

At least this ink will bleed for my sins. 

At least these words will talk about my pain. 

But maybe someday I will laugh again. 

But maybe these are just wishful thoughts of a nameless dancing girl. 

Today I write about my sins, 

Today I dream about my hearts pain, 

Today I bleed for my heart,

Today I cried for my end,

Today I contemplate my choices,

Today I regret my decisions, 

Today I will tell you my story, 

Today I will reveal to you my yesterday, 

Today my past unveils, 

Like an uncoiled vine from a trees bark,

Today this is all I can say, 

Maybe tomorrow I will have more, 

More to say, 

More to pray..... 

I believe in my lord.....

I believe with a vengeance,

I fight with my word,

I break down each time you question me,

I get up still strong,

I dont fear your bigotry,

I pity your thoughts,

I will have faith no matter your tactics,

I will be strong no matter your antics,

You shun what you dont know,

You condemn what you dont know,

I was born out of love,

And i will stay till the end because of love,

You consider me fear,

But i am the product of devotion,

The devil is my enemy,

But you dont understand,

My creator is your creator,

My devotion is to your master,

He is always there,

He is always near,

Just because you dont believe,

Doesnt mean he is not real.

Your disbelieve has no affect on his existence,

Your disbelieve only affects your existence..... 

fault in my memories

as i walk through the maze of my memories, 

i am haunted by the pain in their depth, 

the beauty that they once had, 

is darkened by the shadows of my pain, 

the resonance in their cries, 

haunts my sanity, 

the suffocation of their misery, 

blinds my every step, 

i was once alone but you found me, 

i was once all alone but you found me, 

you found me and loved me, 

you held me and made me, 

i was a broken star, 

you fixed me.

i was a hopeless scar, 

you healed me.

i didnt know what to love, 

you taught me.

i didnt know how to smile,

you showed me.

i learned to love,

than you left me.

i started to hope, 

but you betrayed me. 

i was alone, once again. 

i was alone, once again.

now i stand on the edge of my memories, 

waiting to jump , wondering when to jump.

haunted by my thoughts

my shadows haunted me, 

my fears crippled me, 

my neuroses gripped me, 

my demons chased me, 

i was a nervous wreck, 

i was all ready to throw in the deck, 

but you loved me, 

but you came to me, 

yet you scared me, 

you were mine , yet you were a stranger, 

you were a burden, 

still you were my burden, 

i love you, maybe more than myself, 

yet you scare me, maybe more than my demons.

demons of hope

Roses that bled

Diamonds that broke

Promises wrapped in chains

Dreams grasped with pain

Choices of love 

Gardens filled with doves

Romance of madness

Worlds filled with sadness

The intertwining lanes

The shattered window panes

Tears of mahogany

Roads of broken memories

Fantasies of a better tomorrow

Nightmares of a broken thread 

Life of a demon

Laced with black venom 

last symphony of the author

a symphony of words,

the canvass of love, 

as the music began, 

the words sang, 

as the colors came to life,

the orchestra thrived, 

as the curtains turned,

the applause churned,

as the masks came off, 

the horror began,

as the rage came to life,

the jealousies thrived, 

as the wheels turned,

the hearts churned,

as the music strengthened, 

the words lengthened,

as the colors got bolder, 

the orchestra smoldered, 

as she looked into her hands, 

she saw what could be, 

her canvass wasted,

her symphony destroyed, 

what once was a dream , 

lay in ashes ..... wasted 

Dreams of a benevolent master

as the slave girl danced,

she danced with all her heart, 

she danced to the thunder of the whip,

she danced on shards of her broken wings,

as the slave girl danced,

she danced on molten fire,

she danced on the demise of her inner desires,

she danced on the shame of her love, 

as the slave girl cried,

she cried on the funeral of her hopes,

she cried on the mockery of her soul,

she cried on the betrayal of her core,

as the slave girl cried,

she cried on the loss of her innocence,

she cried on the loss of her faith,

she cried on her inhumane fate,

as the slave girl raged, 

she raged for her cruel fortune,

she raged for her revenge,

she raged for her master, 

as the slave girl prayed,

she prayed for the turning of her fortune,

she prayed for her saviour,

she prayed for her captor, 

as the slave girl hoped, 

she hoped for respite, 

she hoped for redemption,

she hoped for a benevolent master......

1st september, 1999 - Diary of a little girl

when i was a little girl , all i wanted was dolls to play with. i used to sit by the side of the play ground, looking at other little girls , playing with their dolls, playing like girls, having everything they ever wanted , with no care in the world. 

Even as a little child i had so much pride , i could not ask my parents to buy me things. whatever i had, was what somebody assumed i needed or wanted and bought me, but i could never tell them what i truly wanted. in order to play with dolls, me and my sister , we used to make dolls of paper , we would make their clothes with paper too and would colour them the way we wanted. i was happy with that. 

i always looked at other girls doll houses and tea sets. they were so beautiful and colourful. every little girls dream of her own house starts with that little doll house, be it made of wood , or plastic, but that is when the fantasy begins.  

i didnt have fancy tea sets or doll houses , but i had couch cushions and cardboard boxes which i used to make my doll houses , suffice it to say , they fit perfectly for the paper dolls. 

i used to collect coins , when i had enough , i would go and buy tea sets made out of mud. they were cheap , but they served their purpose and made me happy. it was a good life , but for an 8 year old, it was a life of burdens. burden of pride. today i realise, an 8 year old should not have pride , an 8 year old should have toys , or if it not toys, atleast should have something to play with. 

as i write this diary , i realise i am no longer a little girl , but today at 50, and countless mistakes later , i have come to realise , i need to write about my mistakes , about my shortcomings , not to generate sympathy , but maybe , in some dark corner , someone may find this , and learn something ...... but maybe, because i believe , writing about my life , may , make it interesting.....

                          

The clock goes tick tock.......

Ticking of the clock is always a reminder of the falling sand that washes through our hands and flies off with the wind. 

Time itself is meaningless. 

But time in its totality is all there is. 

Every time we think about our past, all we see are pages of our memory that our lost forever.

Every time we wonder about our future, all we see are shadows of what could be, something we can never touch. 

Our past will always be something that eluded us, left us and no matter what we try , it will be like burnt ashes , scattered and lost.

Our future, will always be within arms length but we will never be able to touch it, hold it, feel it.

In reality all we truly have is the second that we live in.

The moment in which we live is all there is to our life. 

Everything else is like waves of the ocean that crash and fall and wash away , never coming back. 

Time is all there is and all there never was.

It could also be, that everything there is, every second it becomes the past. 

sins of sanity

As the universe questions my sanity, 

I see shadows of evils vanity,

As the devil surrenders to tomorrow, 

I see hopes and ashes of sorrow,

As the greedy hoard their treasures, 

I see lucifers cage and it's pleasures,

As the nymphs prepare for their dances, 

I see hungry eyes prancing, 

As pride spreads it's wings, 

I see blood hounds unleash their wrathful swings,

As I sign away my sanity, 

I see victory in my nemesis insanity ....