The Red Corridor!

Skinned in taut darkness,
At the fringes of humanity,
Forgotten

And left to burn.
Burnt yet flickering
Like besieged cinder,

Rose the army of heathens.
Sullied by soot,
The declared abscesses,

Fuse and swell.
Swell into a conflagration,
A colossal dust-cloud,

Of nether feral.
The sequester followed,
By eyes and minds,

Of the avowed and tormented renegades.
Renegades to the
Black suit,

And a civilized thought.
Cold metal,
Gave them fire,

Which was an iron-clad irony.
Irony declaring a chimeric unity,
Of which ‘they’ were not part,

Only the aristocrat.
An esoteric society,
With fedoras and books,

Reading hollow blacken marks.
Hollow words directing
Ablation,

Of a section, of an entire class.
A dialogue then usurped,
By handshake of the cold arm,

With a peep-hole and a shot.
For the zombies had awoken
From the lair

Where they waylaid.
Waylaid in wait,
To paint the canopy

Red.
Red, red, red
Red, red, red,

Red, Red, red.
Until a red
Redder than Red

Covered the brazen ground.
Blackened by their hats and coats,
In their death,

Were the aristocrats.
But ‘their’ deaths shined,
With an open eye,

As a red from the sun and skies…

Oh! What a Pyrrhic victory it was!!!!!

-Neeti

BASCULE: The Act of Balance

The dark is an intriguing phenomenon. Marry it off to shrieking silence, and its power to do crazy things to your brain grows many-fold. Its amazing how they, together, have the ability to make you delve deep into your consciousness and pull out things you never thought existed, make connections you never would have thought of otherwise, connect dots like they were actually lying in a sequence for you to see. The capacity to accumulate all random thoughts, events, ideas, occurrences, anything minuscule and easily discard-able by memory and put it in perspective. Who is to say they join hands and do this of evil intentions or out of goodwill!!!

I found myself in the middle of the grasslands with no sounds of civilization for miles for around a week, only random sounds of lions roaring in the background and millions of crickets going about their nightly business. They were scary as shit but amazingly interesting…

What follows is a product of the Dark!

Bascule: The act of balance

Basking in the gracious kindling,
Sagaciously on the rocking chair,
Clothed in warming content-ness…
The day finds him sitting in the dark,
By the hearth,
His eyes closed, hands rested on the side-press…
Sounds from his kid-dom,
Fill the space they share…

Symphony from the percussions,
Resounding his ears,
An image forming a convoy in his memory…
The see-saw bare on the other end,
Bedazzled by the rays,
He awaits his companion unwearyingly…
Wonted kindness never ditching his countenance,
For that was the worst of his fears…

Walking the years through swarming spaces,
Compassion conspicuously painted in his gait,
Benevolence for every strange face…
Relentlessly sauntering the streets,
Waiting to be shadowed,
Under the flight of the bird of Jove…
Felt a crushing weight,
Oblivious to his dire strait…

From the streets, gathering plumes of eagles,
Amassing them in a glass jar,
Locked away in a secret place in his room…
Back to being agreeable,
Once the boundary was walked over,
Light overshadowed the alleged darkness and doom…
Glee and laughter,
Masking the scar…

Tinctured by unscrupulous thoughts,
On befriending one flying sigil of power,
Who sat affably by his side, each sundown…
Possessed by a diabolic spirit,
He sat waylaid with his gimlet one twilight,
And maimed his loves beating heart out…
Its plumes now lie in a glass jar by the window,
Sparkling in the ray, as medals of mar…

Basking in the leashed kindling,
Procrustean-ly on the rocking chair,
Clothed in warming content-ness…
The day finds him sitting by the window,
Next to the jar,
His eyes closed, hands rested on the side-press…
Silence now,
Fills the space they share…

The see-saw STILL bare on one end
But this time the other way round!!!

-Neeti