AAH!THE MALADIES OF THE FATHOMABLE

AAH!THE MALADIES OF THE FATHOMABLE .......

Sometimes how so ever maybe the effort we succumb to the empathy of the heart.Heart!some one said does everything for its own reasons, and reasons unknown to the practical human mind. Then if it is not our folly then, why! why do we suffer the constant molestations drenched to the limits of madness. We are nothing but miniscule patterns of activity before that mountain of passions and how-so-ever one may swear by his sanity it is our heart which controls our limits of the sane and the insane.Often nowadays i mull over the course of my not so sane life and all I counter is the idiosyncrasies of my passionate yet deceitful,free yet far from freedom, docile yet out in the wild,pragmatic yet pugnacious heart.

Oh! The pain I go through when I cut through the mists my conscience, the feeling of foredoom surrounds me like the pentacles of the hydra trying to deplume away every single shred remniscent of my moral being.How hard I may try to buck the effects the hangover is even terrible. Even the assay of my so called remains of so called free spirit suggest a story which berates any logical conclusion. It is then I'm left wondering that did I ask for it or was this my calling in life. How severely I find my self restricted in thoughts,words,actions and ah! But ofcourse sanity. There's no illusion in my mindYou sing of love and happiness

But your words are black and twistedIt's always fun to hear the peopleScream and yell of their sadness, their miseryBut compared to me they're nothingJust little puppets with their strings being pulledYou're pulling my strings again, here come the tearsWhen are you gone stop?When are you gone turn away?Yeah, I know it looks good when you're looking downTake my place, take my spot and Take my ride to hell. ........I try hard not to give in to the feeling but such is the effect of the aomalousness of my emotions that I lay prostrate before my silent and overpowering misery of mental garishness. OH Lord! Provide me with the Noah's ark to sail through my miseries and find my true calling.

For I might be of use to the mankind, for my life be of service to your other children, for my enigmas might turn into my energies, for once again I might feel that essence of life in its bloom which has for sooooooooo long left me.I'm at pains to provide concrete answers to my confused and pradoxical life but maybe that helps me to feel the so very different moods both explained and the unexplained. But honestly the experience leaves me exhausted, people often question me of my conflicting and imbecile behaviour and I find me at pains to put their questions to a practical reasoning. Maybe my already exhausted self refuses to provide me the correct answer how so ever i may try to reason with my self.

So the end result is that I'm misunderstood and mistaken. What I so much try to avoid always stares me straight in the face. I might..............I might not..............Find the answers.................So till then............................Its going to be a loooooooooooooooonggggggggg way to finding my complete self and emancipating myself from the cycle of anomalous mental capriciousness. So till then.........................................................i'll prefer to ........................hold to my capriciousness atleast it provides me the pleasure of experiencing so much at the cost of so little but what so may be the gains ......................MALADIES WILL BE MALADIES AND THAT TOO OF THE FATHOMABLE..................... ...............

My life did not foresee such misty weather, Nor centuries of light Intend so dim a day. Swaddled together In separateness, the trees Persist or not beyond the gray-white Palings of the air. Gone Are whatever wings bothered the lighted leaves Are all The sparrows fallen? I can hardly hear,My memory of those bees Which only lately mesmerized the lawn.Now, something, blaze! A fear Swaddles me now that HylasÂ’ tree will fall Where no eye lights and grieves, Will fall to nothing and without a sound.I sway and lean above the vanished ground. Now I could dream that all my selves and ages,Pretenders to the shadowed face I wear, Might in this clearing of the wits, forgetting Deaths and successions, parley and atone.Couched in the void, I hear what I have heard The God who dreams us, breathing out and in.

I am a truant portion of the all Misshaped by time, incorrigible desire And dear attachment to a sleeping hand Who lie here on a certain day And darkness filled the specious space, Betwixt my silent face,Pressing against my eye its absent Fathomless stare.

Out in the dark I felt the real mountains Hulking in proper might, And I felt the edge of the black windÂ’s Regardless cleave,And I knew I had eaten not the manna of heaven But my own reflected light, And i was the only part of the night THAT I COULD NOT BELEIVE.........................