Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Raw hearted in love!




Does killing time damage eternity?
With a big bang to chug oomph down your brain.

Does killing time cradle you to sleep?
With a lame mind which is just lazy,
too hard to be touched,
Too cold to be thrilled.
If then you would have heard about this night.

This tender night,
With a dark clutch,
The grip of the sky,
Which hid the light of the stars which dazed?
Which doused its spirit the man-so-wolf’s blood?

Heard of the man-so-wolf!
Son of the dark,
Preacher of the evil,
He clang on to trees,
And sprang on to rocks.
The leaves shuddered when he passes without a trace,
But the wind would just whisper even before it forgets why!

A strange night,
With a dark clutch,
The thirst for the red fleshed wine,
Taunting for flesh to dine.
He set out to feast on a prey,
With only the dark lending him the way.

The smell of blood,
Of a tender woman in the woods,
He smirked,
And sprang in,
Pushing away the trees,
Whining with hunger,
He sprang to where it smelled the best,
Somewhere in the west,
He saw a young woman,
So pretty,
So bright like a petite green leaf,
Pale like the moon,
But shone like a star studded gale.

The feeling of hunger seemed vague,
He stared at her!
She so scared,
took two steps behind,
Before she ran,
She was floored waiting death,
The wolf-so-man he leapt,
He sprung on her,
But not to kill,
He tried to feel her smell,
He nudged with his nail,
her neck vein.
It sprung out,
The evil red of blood.
He licked,
But it tasted so different,
changed was his life,
He felt that was evident,
He the son of the dark,
Did not want to be scared of the human wombs wonder,
He bit hard on her neck,
And she felt the pain,
He guzzled the blood down his throat,
It tasted not good,
But he had it,
Cause he the conqueror of the dark,
Did not want to fail because of some humanly whim,
He kicked her,
Her body rolled in to the woods,
Like the dead firewood which lost its warmth.

The hunger crave so dead,
He leapt back to reach his cave,
Like a anger wave,
Which he knew for no reason,
But it hurt,
It was anger,
It was loss,
It was pain!
He wondered why?

The moon faded,
He closed his eyes,
So that it would not hurt,
But he saw the pain in his eyes,
As a dream which was never traced.
He held his hairy palm close to his heart!
And there he felt the pain,
He knew then,
It was love.
Not able to take the pain anymore.
He dug his nail into his chest.
He felt his heart
He scooped it out,
He saw her blood had blended to his green vein,
He felt the wind,
It felt so different..
Not so fair,
he was not able to have the pain,
He threw it on the floor,
His heart so doused with love.
He pounced on it to drink her blood again,
To feel her blood and warmth without a gain.

Blinded by hunger he never saw thy love,
But winded by thoughts,
He would see only thy love!
Worth than the blood of his heart!



  Inspiration from the pic : the mind so vague it kills the love it never craved for. And then it wildly pronounces to douse into the spirit corpse to feel the love!

2 comments:

nu-sense said...

nice

tragic :-)

loreto said...

I'm in love wid Wolverine.....

:D