Sunday, August 29, 2010
Confessions - Loneliness
Fear drank again, from the pool of my Soul. Where are you tonight? When I need to be held, closest to your heart? When I need to be told you are mine, forever? When I need to be lived, to be sung like the melody of your Love? The skies mock me – the bright smiles of the stars taunt and tease like cruel children that pinch and pull at my hair. I need to dress in your touch; your caresses shall be my garb. I need to lose the poison that runs through my veins drowning me in this slow painful Death. I need to be reborn into sunshine tonight – make the sun glow for me, rid me of this ever-blackening darkness. This lonely life shall consume me. Either you hold my hand tonight and take me into your fold or I die…
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Confessions - Fire
I quite like the danger. Of flirting with fire.
Down South, there is this cult of Goddess worshipers which holds an annual festival. The grand highlight of this temple festival is the walk through fire. A pit of fire is prepared, with dedication, with reverence. Fuel added, fanned, fed. The fire is nurtured, with love. Never allowed to blaze, to burn out. The heat, the embers build up over days to a climactic culmination on the day, nay, the night of the commemoration. And also arrive the "chosen ones". What thoughts sustain them as they walk through the fiery pathway, I know not. What passions drive them to plunge every step through this fervent undertaking; what permits them to cast aside every thought of self preservation and walk the Fire.
Perhaps I do. I have been in Love. I have walked the Fire. I have flirted with the knowledge and the ignorance of the next day, the next hour, the next moment. What turns this kaleidescope may take, what hell or heaven it may lead me to - I know not. But that's perhaps exactly what I am in love with. The lack of safety, the vulnerability. Am I challenging myself? Or am I destroying my semblance of sanity?
Down South, there is this cult of Goddess worshipers which holds an annual festival. The grand highlight of this temple festival is the walk through fire. A pit of fire is prepared, with dedication, with reverence. Fuel added, fanned, fed. The fire is nurtured, with love. Never allowed to blaze, to burn out. The heat, the embers build up over days to a climactic culmination on the day, nay, the night of the commemoration. And also arrive the "chosen ones". What thoughts sustain them as they walk through the fiery pathway, I know not. What passions drive them to plunge every step through this fervent undertaking; what permits them to cast aside every thought of self preservation and walk the Fire.
Perhaps I do. I have been in Love. I have walked the Fire. I have flirted with the knowledge and the ignorance of the next day, the next hour, the next moment. What turns this kaleidescope may take, what hell or heaven it may lead me to - I know not. But that's perhaps exactly what I am in love with. The lack of safety, the vulnerability. Am I challenging myself? Or am I destroying my semblance of sanity?
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