the explorer's stone

 She was a spark of lightening enlightening the whole mansion with her spark but yet there was something about her which  attracted all the people towards her like a beautiful venus fly trap which entices and devours her prey. She was like a bitter sweet danger which everybody risked to take. Nobody could have resisted her temptation and her command for that she was too assertive. Without a shimmer of grievances the guards permitted her to enter into his impervious mansion. The mansion was colossal with its boundaries being fenced by immaculate decorative and plating of finely refined copper and gold giving the mansion vintage and other worldly look amidst the tropes of similar looking mansion and streets. Its entrance getting sparkled by her exuberating beauty as she laid her eyes on eclectic artifacts sprouting from the deserted looking spacious heavens devoid of peace and tranquility, she seemed like someone who could sprinkle her exuberance onto the dead paradise. Looking at the no

 Whenever we see life in its full glory exuding its disconcerting nature we frighten , gets despised comparing it with other streams of life projecting our fantasies onto them. We become envious to them been oblivious about everything that it entails. Surely they might seem pleasing and marvelous for each of our lives are a bouquet of finely fabricated and heavenly smelling flowers underneath which lies the real dread dry thrones ready to suck blood of others. We are always attracted to others and does the same to others. Whole world is inviting each other for tours which nobody likes but a few survives some by compulsion others by genuine affection, As though heavens are been constructed onto the roots of dread and rugged. But that's how things turn out to be all the pain we endure and incur on others are just to create our own version of heaven but what ultimately prevails is the eternal confusion that our humanity deals with setting up each step with utmost skepticism and consid

 I don't want to see you.  Yes you read it right. I don't want to see you. A figment of imagination you are. Which tantalizes me to reach the stars. But you too have scars. Which you hide. Just to attract people like mice. Who runs after you. Exhausting themselves to death. You snatch away their breath. You cleverly play these games. But you too are like us. Filled with dirt and dust . And we are sweepers. Who washes that away . Like a queen you sway. You always persuade. The King that you like. Eventually making him your mice. That mice cleans you all. Makes you his beautiful doll. I don't want to see those dolls anymore.

 Devil besides me sits and laughs. Instructs me to self abort. He is always feeling jealous , envious of other's life and successes. But he doesn't understand me. I'm not like them. I don't want to play this juvenile games. It tires me. But still he goes on beating me with canes , always making me self aware. But there isn't much energy left in me. I'm tired of all this world. Done with it, he is encouraging me as though I was once a victim and he is thirsty for vengeance but he doesn't know his driver is stupid. He always clashes onto the wrong lanes.

 It was a warm twilight time everyone was enjoying, performing their daily routine of walking and playing around the garden. Luscious green trees with its multi colored earrings enclosed the whole garden in its serene captivity. Within its closures were all sort of calming naturally aesthetic ambience which provided people with a sense of sanity in midst of the radically changing times. Its small little world was enough for people to have a soothing time with their family, friends and lovers. Everybody was accompanied by something or someone in the park playing their small little games. Flock of children running around and drenched in their naivety were wrestling with their ambitions, dreams and their little deities and demons but their rough and tumble play seemed to them like a serious play which could be easily investigated by their variability and intensity of emotions as they played.  There was a old man selling candy flosses to people of the park pulling up a smiling face as thou

 Recursive loops of path emerging The same feelings are surging. We keep on following the patterns. Full filling the prophecy that each one of us desire. To get us away from this reckoning fire. We are in dire need of prayers. That would make us everlasting. Like passing trails of days and nights. But that too comes with seasons of changes. We always want to remain the same. Like a young budding bloom of daisy. But that too withers. We always ignore the shivers. Of our conscious. It was always a curse. But some people drink it. To suspend their illusions and spit it. Like an antidote we sip it. By cleansing our senses. It demolishes bricks of the wicked. It too has it's own significance. It has it's own taste and frangnance. Which fosters the ultimate truth. That we find in our inevitable gloom.

In the court of truth. Everybody's a suspect. Nobody's spared to inspect. Stripping away our lies. Where our bloated ego punctures and dies. We try to delay our presence in the court. We always find comfort in our home's abode. Where we feel elated and joyous. Satiating our wants and tantrums. Our lies shoves us with sugary hopes. Making our egos bloat. We can't even fit in the court. Where sickly people resides. Being tired by their inspecting minds. They want to resign. But they too are prisoners of their ego. Which epitomizes the appalling court. What an ironical joke it is. Where ego judges its own heroes.

 Dark night excavating secrets. Bursting all the myths we create. Walking through the midst of darkness. Being tired, helpless. They raise their foot towards the void. Dogs starts to howl and bark. Not knowing if they are stopping or encouraging. They move on and on. Even the sky cries by sprinkling their fading light. Thunderstorms raging. Which bursts the clouds and rain it all. Making everything moist and melancholic. Depriving their senses like an alcoholic. Emancipating themselves from the tides of their wavering mind. Jumping from the lanes of space and time. They drown themselves into the oblivion. Where their mortality resigns.

 I am grateful, there are many things in my life that I hate, many thing which distress me, make me feel weak and timid, there are somedays where I punch myself in fact once I broke the mirror that reflected me. Extreme rivalry prevails in my heart for myself and the world. I don't have any reason to do so in particular reminiscing the times where I was bullied and mocked at for my each and every mistake. From my way of speaking, to physique, to hygiene that belonged to me were despised. That's why my body turned to corpse whenever I used to enter school. Each day passed by as days of comma. Been segregated and indifferent from everybody. The whole premise seemed like a hunting forest for me and I pretended to be dead so nobody would hunt me. I started to rot myself so that nobody could even come closer to me. Hence I spend my splendid time with my inner self  we used to talk about dreams and philosophies and any utterance of the outer world shrieked me, annoyed me. Many time I

 She is bleeding me,   Devouring me. With her sharp jaws. Giving me wounds of her claws. Elegant feathers tickling. Each moment slipping. Evading with her pleasure. Binding me to her. Her thirst slitheres Throughout my veins and blood. Leaving us alone. We play all along. After a while. I started to question. Is this where I belong ? Thrusting me to her. She kisses and ignites us like a glowing ember. So lost in us. There's no time to think. Staring at her. I write this verse with fading ink.

 He woke up from last night's ordeal. Nightmares crippled over him , his sleep cycle was gradually diminishing. He was  reluctant to sleep even during those times where he was feeling tired and weary. Those nightmares showed him things which were disgusting enough to make the strongest person puke. It was not just horrifying but it unraveled certain aspects of him which he was unaware of and it seemed true to him. He rose from his bed uncovering the bed sheets that draped him and sat on a wooden arm chair placed besides his bed. It was a chilling night the whole street froze to dead, just a street light illuminating its deadness by showering lights on a dead dog. He watched all this sitting on his armchair as he was gazing through his window pane. His room was quite small, things were congested in it like the components of finely fabricated royal watch. Although everything looked perfect like symmetry but something was quite missing just like his head space which wandered over diff