Monday, August 06, 2007

its a matter of mockery, this mundane moment in time

he mocks me..

twisted words.. wrangled emotions.. a place for netted thoughts and ramblings..
this heart and that
all a truely troubled space for sympathy..

he mocks you..

ranting and raving in daring delight
knowing all along that theres no end in sight

just mundane mockery and a mauled sense of dread
dripping poison on the scattered petals left -
of emotions run dry like the pen that couldnt write anymore

the sword of the writer reduced to thought

the muse mystified

and everythings drained of carefree colour

now

its all just sepia sorriness
and a pale pathos

feelings are the fallen angel

and we wonder why..

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

this is deepness felt. no make that- this is deepness drowned in!

good stuff kimmy!

JT

Anonymous said...

hey girl! reminds me of a poem i reead sometime ago about women in warring coutries. i suppose war resides in every moment of life, everyday struggles and whatever we face as women in general. nicely written. it resonates with me.

sara

Anonymous said...

verbally speaking as always, THIS IS ONE LOADED PIECE OF WORK LADY!!!

but then youre always aload of thinking!

The Verb

Anonymous said...

Hi Kimya!

Hows the booksales going maám? :-P

This is heavy but it sounds like a lyric to something upbeat maybe. Reminds me of one of your other ones, i cant remember teh name ;-)

Shafinaaz Hassim said...

thnx all!

@JT: deepness drowned in? sounds quite poetic... and apt response to my avid alliteration :)

@sara: the wars inside us are perhaps greater than the wars around... or perhaps theyre the microcosm of the great expanse... :/

@ The Verb: Loaded like a Garish Gun methinks...

@diatribe: lyrics hey! we should start a band... i would play the tamborine :P