Thursday, August 30, 2012

Quicksand

Drowning in it.
Vividly clear.
The murky brown bubbles
Forming in the mouth.
And he says to me,
Arm outstretched,
"You may see
That you are out of reach."
Struggling for foothold
In a quagmire of doom,
Lungs made of fire.
And eyes made of smoke.
Moments flash.
Between gasps of fire and forest,
Life and that which was not lived.
"Your time was always close",
He ascertains; his word ultimate.
Engulfed in quicksand.
Let go.
Taken over.
Suicide.
From under his dark robe of shadows,
He takes out his scythe.


6 comments:

ashzzes said...

And he says to me,
Arm outstretched,
"You may see
That you are out of reach."

I loved the multiple meanings the lines conveyed!
good to see you back :)

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

You won't drown if you let go, you have to know that fight. is. futile.

Nice read,
Blasphemous Aesthete

D2 said...

@ashzzes what were the meanings that you thought of? I love when I write something on a singular thought but people interpret it differently. Do tell me. :)
I just wanted those lines to show clarity of the undeniable end. Solid despair. Tell me what you thought.

D2 said...

@Blasphemous Aesthete : Letting do is quite a gradual process. Fight or flight needs to be first understood. Realization is what brings one to the ultimate end, good or bad.
Thanks a lot. :)

Sudeshna said...

Lungs made of fire.

And eyes made of smoke.

Moments flash.


Loved the imagery. I see that you haven't posted in a while. Do post frequently. Till then may be I'll go back and read what I've missed out on till date. :)

D2 said...

@Sudeshna : I haven't been on this space for a long time. I would say that I've been busy with things I'm writing, but that would be partially true and more so in a rather metaphorical sense. I'll be back to the blog soon, I hope. Until then, do keep reading and let me know of what you think.
Thank you. :)

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