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Ainieas' Poetry Corner (Updated: 24th Mar '09)

17th Nov, '07

Ma Saii

In the lost shadows of forgotten times,
I've discovered myself,
Fallen from grace,
Betrayed into disbelief,
Trying to remember who i had been,
I'm undone,
Cursed to be a wraith,
An illusion that will fade with the first touch,
Haunted by unseen memories,
Bled into submission,
I'm who I choose to be.

Sep 22nd, 07:

I Know What It Is Like

I've been there, done that,
I know what it is like -
To think this is the easiest way out
To justify no one loves you
To pretend you won't be missed
To believe this is your final act of bravery.

I've been there, done that,
I know what it is like -
To feel the first sting of the blade,
To see the first gushes of red,
And then wait for it to be all over.

I've been there, done that,
I know what it is like -
To hear yourself cry out,
(To someone,
to anyone,
just to save you)
And have it go unheard.

I've been there, done that,
I know what it is like -
To fail;
And live to see your best friend succeed.

March 12th, '07

Mythical Imagery

The bounded time swirls,
As the mystic waves conspire their feeling,
And sacred moments of scented memories,
desire an end.
Suffered Dreams

I stare at a world unknown,
That brushes past me,
Stand at the corner,
And watch it glide away.

Of unknown answers and bewildered hopes,
I dream with sordid smiles,
Pretending I cant be moved,
Or feel and untouching hand.

Somewhere I lost it all,
Missed the beginning and the end,
Passed the trail that led to light,
And looked for shadows in the dark.

And when the world stops moving,
I look for something of me in it,
Like at a mirror of a thousand faces,
I seize the picture therein.

Trying to convince myself its real,
Listening to the silent sighs of indifference,
I stand in the corner,
Watching it all slip away
26th Feb, '09

The Solace of a Confession

Fairy tales and dark nights,
Sworn in my dreams,
Forgotten curses and foggy windows,
Muffled in silent screams.

Tears that were never mine,
Venting through my veins,
The falling over of the universe,
Caught in my reigns.

Who is it that questions my lies,
Of untold truth that reek,
Who is it that closes my eyes,
Unsaid questions that seek.

Im of the forgotten lot,
Im to be unseen,
Like the life in the wraith,
That Ive never been.

If Im seen wasting away,
Pretend not to care,
Ill let that picture fade,
Like I was never there.

Talk not of smiles that linger,
The veils of our sin,
Treachery of betraying moments,
I promise Ill remain unseen.
Silent thoughts of Grey

Redundant. Trite. Jaded.
But words still.
Who has changed - you or me?

What is a sorry but a pinprick
In the ocean of our smiles,
When the shores of our souls,
Bewildered and bruised,
Sing of evenings lost.

Then why is it that we smile,
Wiping the tears off our blades,
Knowing not if it was you or me,
That coloured their tainted existence.

The inside of me,
I wont show, no I wont see,
Has not the hurt always hid there,
Its as much yours as mine.

If it is the selfsame love you sought,
In the trenches beyond,
Then why do our fingers twine,
Have I been redeemed enough?

Is not forgiveness that cruel?

****the following was written by the person the above lines are written for as a reply****

An answer to your thoughts

Grey is the colour of seashells brought out from the sea
Salt dried
Of skies when it is about to rain
As if the clouds were waiting to spill a secret
Grey is hope when it is about to become

A regular cycle to a regular day
Begins and ends with hurt
Countless apologies and confessions later
Reach the same damn end
Sorry, she says, not meaning it
Its ok, he says, not meaning it

Beauty is lost in this maze
Of words exchanged over wireless
When you are vulnerable Im not
Vice versa
Exchange, unequal
Moments in time are not conjoined
A moment is never the right moment

Where does beauty rest then?
Between which words does it nestle?
What shade of grey does it take?

It is easy to overlook
A sorry that could be true
Easier still to consider it fake
Trite, jaded
Green emeralds in the green of our eyes
We cant tell jewels from
What surrounds them

Why is it
That our lives take a turn
That we wish it had not
And did it do so
Of its own free will?

This happens
And that
Morning milk coffees
And chocolate chip cookies
Ill remember
Ill remember the look in your eyes

Small, brown wondering
Im sorry, I say to them.
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