The Tale…!

"The universe

Was born of a big-bang

Or so does the science say

And it was the chaos

That defined the world

For far too long

Before the order crept in

And came along

You, me, and us

The universe grew

Beyond the shadows of

Big-bang,

And grew the world, of

You, me, and us

Bursting forth

A horizon filled with passion

Leaving behind an insipid abyss

And came along

The bright colors of hope

For you, me, and us

Utopia, Indeed…!

Adolescence

just like the autumn

announces itself with vigour

flushed with a new found identity

carries itself beyond

the timid infancy of

the romance of summer;

The universe is grown

And so are

You, me, and us

Grown abound

Too much and too apart

For gravity to hold together

The universe waits

For the fall to arrive

And so do

You, me and us

Staring at a horizon

That is yellowing rapidly;

The black holes of void

Have grown too monstrous

Threating to swallow

Fragile pieces of

The universe

Just like the sense

Of you and me has grown

And threatens to swallow

The ruins of us

The chaos defines the universe

The darkness fills its core

The Universe awaits

Another big-bang, while

Rubbles of utopia

Strayed, adrift

Still burn over the sky

Of the dusk

Offering a glimpse of dawn

As if a star has broken

Just for you, me,

Or us?...”

Praveen parasar

29/06/2018

Scribbling

“The words, seething beneath

Abyss of darkness

And, longing to cry;

Tears often quench the thirst

of coerced solitude

And, the chaos amidst

silence…”

Scribbling

Scribbling:

“Insecurity devours like termites

The night weeps, passing by

Ruins of a hollow man.”

Tragedy of wanderer

Scribbling:
Tragedy of wanderer:
"Even when it continues to drag one down beneath the slop of moments and yet pretends to be the secret lover; loneliness, fancy of a troubled heart, romance set in the backdrop of words, scotch and the ever seductive night, a treat that promises one of a once of a lifetime experience, solitude, an offer not to be refused but alas! It turns out a trap used for ages and it successfully brings another one down even before the flicker of ecstasy could burn out. For the weight of its embrace soon strangles the one without remorse while out of breath one dreams being high and when the bubble of fantasy pops, leaving behind one shocked and shattered, suffocating upon the mirage of solace, screaming to be spared of the punishment meant for the one who falls for the temptations. The end of such escapade is rather familiar, a grave carrying no names but only the traces of chaotic darkness wrapped in silence."

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“Survival betrays glory; Glory, for it demands defiance, as if to keep oneself together even if the failing, falling pieces would not fit back but rather are bound to leave behind a fallen castle displaying the crime to the world unashamed. While survival, it demands to override the protocol meant for displaying the honor and chivalry of dead. It rather demands to unnerve the untouched layers of guilt and fantasy hidden beneath the glittering but rotting pieces of flesh and bones. It literally rapes one mercilessly and leaves behind a piece of meat one would continue to loath forever, and yet the hangover of being survived would let one pass through all the mess accumulated around. Survival brings the worse out of one and it never fails to surprise how much darkness could one carry through all those days filled with noise of cheap laughter and hollow enthusiasm, while bleeding through the darkness in silence, watching oneself broken and hollowed, and yet…”

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“Death is not a need, something to be fulfilled, or something to look forward to for it would bring a change. No even if the change is something one has looked for long time. Death does not fill the void for one, rather it remains a gamble one strives to play simple being overwhelmed of its charisma. Death may not bring what one has been looking for whole life, it may even fail to justify the trap one fell into unknowingly, and yet it lies at the end of all that ignorance. Simply being there, in silence, showing no sign of emotions, neither joy, nor remorse. And still someone lets oneself drown in its embrace, who could tell for what.”

Tragedy of wanderer

Scribbling

Tragedy of wanderer:

“Life! What else, but

Void, devoid of breath

There I watch myself

Die every moment

Crumbling apart

In slow motion

Dreading the voyage;

Death, indeed!

Here I live every moment

Watching it unfold

Frame by frame

In slow motion

Revering the finale

Cherishing the voyage..."

Praveen Parasar

16/6/2018

The Gods!

“High on morality
Drunk, lost gods
Carrying lights of virtue
Adrift beyond high ground
Soon drowned in the sea
Of fabrication
Of their own
Immoral as it was
And evil as it turned out
Leaving behind
Startled gods
Screaming for salvation
That remained a dream
Buried beneath
As worse as a curse
Of immortality,
Now they loath the days
Carrying a fake smile
And weep silently through the night
While struggling to keep their sacred wounds ajar
Awaiting forgiveness of darkness
Before their own morality forsakes them
Alas!
They turned out more mortal
Than they ever realized
Yet, Death remained a far cry
And no one to listen to
Their prayers, screams
Echoes of which
Continues to haunt them
Beyond the grey horizon
Of eternity…”

Praveen Parasar
15/6/2018

Outcast…!

“Being an outcast

Warrants discriminations

And obliterations

Just like those moments

That contains

The ghostly existence

Of one’s naked obsessions

Poisoned passions

Screaming,

Asking to be annihilated

Even before

One could investigate

The charges against

Guilty

while attempting to infiltrate

the holy ground of morality

for there lies faces

as blank as the sky

deprived of clouds

the high ground of gods,

and hearts

as cold as the dead

buried in silence, and

marked sacred

carrying the emblem

depicting

victory of light over dark

Salvation is a dream

That nightmares are built of

And chaos is what defines one

Being an outcast, Alas!...”

Praveen Parasar

09/06/2018

Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“While they thought they knew each other too well to look close enough, they laughed upon the thought of either one turning out disguised at another moment, they rather chose to ignore the asymmetry they carried beneath their symmetrical smiling faces. They considered themselves immune to the charge of being dispassionate, for their passion was overwhelming even for them and yet they could not feel the choke the night started to throw at them at random, as if to wake them up while they could not sleep anyway. Perhaps they were immersed in each other’s sweat and curled in each other’s warmth, so much that those hurried hollow touches failed to draw any attention of them. And while that newly formed void started to swallow them silently, slowly, they thought it was them in each other’s arms – careless; being cared for, Alas!”