Atlas bled

Day after Day,
the burden of choice grew,
harder to bear,
heavier to carry

Heart pumped,
Veins thrummed,
gradually growing tired

Atlas bled,
still holding up.

for him,
it was a duty sacred,
to be performed,
like drawing of breath

while every breath,
suck out of him
life
moment after moment
like a poison

Still Atlas stood,
without a moan,
enduring the wounds
bleeding silent tears of blood

'cuz,
the wounds to him,
were like thorns
of the flower blooming from
seeds
lovingly sown
tenderly tended,
laboriously grown.

Thorns of the flower of love.

beneath the dust

I wandered again,
in the maze of locked doors,
long forgotten.

turned a few knobs,
listening to the screams of past,
that broke free

wished,
I had left undisturbed,
the dust covered rust of memories.

Remembering,
why the knobs had been left unturned,
and memories left to rust
beneath the dust.

Nowhere

Been a while since I blogged, Infact it's been a since I have written anything. It's as if a relentless writer's block has set in. I can't seem to catch the words and string 'em together, they come and go, taunting me, calling me from a distance, I hear their call, I see them....but I can't make myself stretch out to 'em and even if I make the effort, I loose 'em before I can reach 'em.

I am stuck in nothing, I am stuck with nothing and I am struggling like a fish who falls out of water, to escape this nothingness.

I have lost myself somewhere within my own self and I just can't seem to find the way, may be the words will return back to me and help me find an escape.

Till then I shall keep blundering through the darkness, trying to catch hold of those words which are playing hide and seek with me.