Someone Known
What we see in the universe is already history, Something that happened thousands or billions of years ago, I believe our past remains like this unshaken, un-stirred and undeniable. i caught you a few months ago, somewhere while i was going to work, I thought it was the present, I heard you yesterday after long, I thought that was present, I realized the distance that separates us from what we term as now and then is just fragmented reality of our present life which we know is like a technicolour dream. I am bewildered by your projection in my life as an image that is carved into it.
You are carved into the memory of mine like a carving in stone, sculptured to perfect reality and into perfection. You are like the most beautiful rose bush to me, bearing beautiful black roses. I could reach out an touch them but the thorns get my hand first. What makes you seem beautiful is not what you appear as, roses are beautiful, all of them are, the quest for a rose like you instills a thought in my mind, subjects me to agonizing pain, makes me falter from reality, makes me evade understanding that all is I see is not real is what amplifies your beauty. I still wonder when i am awake in the dead of the night, past the witching hour, how dangerous your thoughts are to me, your existence is crafted to make me realize how much I can torture myself into an endless moment of pain,to subject myself to limitless sorrow, all without rhyme or reason.
You are and if I say only you are like the onset of the coldest of the winter when the soul yearns for spring, the ice and snow makes the world look beautiful but without a soul to admire it. how beautiful would the icicle hanging out the frosted window pane glistening in the orange of the morning sunlight would be if no soul even a sorrowful one bears witness to it.
You are like a waterfall in the highest of the mountains falling pretty into the valley below, the melting snow feeds your flow, while the beauty of the snow vanishes it just adds itself up to you, you build up the mist, give birth to the sound that soothes the mind of a disturbed traveller just to drown him if he gets any closer.
You are like a drug, a whiff to bypass all reality, security and sanity, to make one exist in a fathom-less distant dream-land, A little overdose and the soul frees itself from the body to forever cease existing.
You are all that nature built and structured as beautiful, the most beautiful thing that nature built other that you is realization of pain, you are the bringer of realization and the memory of it hurts with the deepest agonizing pain. All that you touch will eventually die, if not sooner. The death shall not be the physical self you kill the mind.
Without the mind we all die, slow, decaying and begging for mercy.
I’m dying, I love pain, I kiss agony and if I have to beg for mercy sorry God I don't do ‘BEG”.


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