Tragedy of Wanderer

Scribbling:

Tragedy of Wanderer:

“An irresistible urge to get drunk, and the bottle betrays you leaving behind no more than few droplets as if mocking you, asking you whether you could ever get drunk enough to stop, and you look around for alternative, but what could fill the glass? The night has been a habitual offender that leaves behind just enough traces of darkness every night to draw one in but soon leaves him behind asking for more but Alas! The dawn brings no mercy and despite having suffered repeatedly one cannot stop but fall prey to the seduction of the night, to the perversion it brings that the void would be filled with darkness until one falls for it and finds himself trapped in those moments that last forever as if lost in the maze of abysses only to be played around forever, buried beneath own flesh and bones.

It was becoming unbearable and more, he was finding himself insensitive to his own screams, pricking himself while wandering upon the ruins of his cries, the lies of night were far too predictable, the cruelty of the dawn were ever more dreadful.

Unseen, unheard, as if deprived of even own sight and hearing he looked for leftover bottle of poison, it was his only possibility of escape out of this outrageously vulgar display of indifference that he had collected for ages now. Alas! There were just enough droplets to give one glimpse of escapade but no more, and he was left longing and yet again…”

Drink Up…

“Drink up O Heart

Before the darkness fades

Before the dawn arrives

And makes a mockery of

What is leftover of you

For the night is not long enough

And there’s little time

To heal those wounds

That you continue to caress

Only to find them aggrieved

For you must stop

Collecting the bits and pieces

Of yours

Off the footsteps

Of none other than

But trampling of your own

For walking away is never an option

And the day would never accept

Your deceptive extravagance

while

Romanticism of bohemia

Could not make up

For the void,

For the desolation is

Only relief, if any

And once more

Drink up O heart

And let yourself melt

And drench

Within that glass

Soak in the mirage

That unfolds

Beyond the horizon

Of deserted stars

And a raped silence

Which finds itself

Scattered

In the gloom

Of inanimate space

Which pretends to be otherwise

And yet…

For better or worse

You would know O Heart

For now, Drink up…”

Praveen Parasar

13/08/2018