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Sonic Doom
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Nocturnal Animal

2:45 in the morning…

Wide awake and staring into the firewall

eyes blank and fighting off dreary thoughts

that one’s brain churns out in uncanny fashion.

The mind is a windmill of unpromising notions

that sometimes we can’t find any reason

except be swallowed by its enigmatic dominion.

You tried to sleep but you can’t sleep

still you want to sleep and hope to sleep…

You take your prescribed pill religiously

hoping it will serve its purpose

but you only bathe in self- deception and

breathe in misery.

4 a.m.

Still struggling and wrestling with your inner- self,

sleep is still elusive.

Insomnia is just like that-

there is nothing you can do

Intensely depressing…




cities burning amid

murderous rage

of beasts trampling the earth,

crimson-colored stream

flowed, fertilizing the barren

soil in unexplained chaos.

citizens held captive in

non-existent cages where

heroes were interred in

a state of traditional dysfunction

and blurred visions,

with nary a whimper heard

from the so-called

guardians of morality

when the steel gates

were locked and time

stood still in their perpetual

stage of unexplained delirious stupor.



Living Dead


I have lost my will to live

Many of you will chastise me for saying this


Some will say that I may have some loose screws in my head

I am not that kind of man

Neither I am a sorrowful skeptic nor a godless heretic.


I am just a tired man


Everyday my existence is a sham


I am battered and weary, tired and lonely

I am living but dead

I need a complete rest...

I need to be at peace...

I want to be- Dead.


So, say a little prayer for me

One of these days

When I put a bullet in my head.


A soldier’s story (Lance Cpl. N. Windsor USMC)

I never wanted to go to war, Uncle Sam
I hope you understand that I am not the warring kind
But I am a good soldier that will follow the chain of command

I was born to be a soldier, trained to fight the enemy of my homeland
To kill and be killed in the frontline is the ultimate test that
I may have to face in my young fragile life.

So, here I am in unfamiliar foreign land
A foot soldier with a deadly machine gun in my hand
Killing men that if my trigger finger will hesitate will not give me a second chance
So I don’t have a choice but to mow ‘em down.

I never wanted to go to war, Uncle Sam
I hope you know and understand that by now
For despite the hardships and the killings that I had in the battlefield
I am still a country boy at heart
More comfortable with a guitar than a rifle in my hand.



Not even in my deathbed

I will allow you,

to commiserate with my sorrows

I have known you

Since a long time ago

When we used to share

The same bed and pillow

But your heart is a wandering fool

And left for some greener meadow.

Now you came to me with tears in your eyes.

Smiling, as if it is quite easy to forget

all the things that

you have done to me.

I made up my mind,

ten summers ago

Never, in my life

not even in my deathbed will

I forgive You.


Scare Crow
deep into the shadowy valley,
in the fields of amber and greens,
you can hear his heart-crushing
screams, if you listen to the wind.

where hopes and dreams,
are nothing but a weak
sensation, coming from the mind,
of a resigned dream-weaver.

silver-spotted butterflies and,
golden-winged dragonflies,
frolicking under the sunshine.

brown and black hooded insects,
flew around in dizzying circles, as
bluebirds and red robins, crisscrossing
the colors of the rainbow.

the black shroud of clothing
hiding, his faceless, flesh-less face
and, emaciated straw-filled body,
reflects the sadness within his inner self.

even if, the worms would tickle his fingertips
and dandelions swayed by his feet

all these, are nothing, which will soothe
his ill-feelings, for in the end,
he will always be a lifeless
scarecrow in the fields of
constant sorrow.

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