Limitations Beyond Measure

Moonlit Recital

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Truth be told, I closed my eyes a long time ago. I’ve retreated so far within, I seem to have lost myself in this blackness. Searching for nothing in the dark - a cruel fate, predicted by no one and everyone. I have been searching for so long, I’ve begun to assimilate into this blackness with no beacon of light to be seen if one exists at all. All I’m seeing are past requiems flooding me with nostalgia and longing for the past. My youth - nonetheless I was invincible. I faced challenges greater than myself. The outcome didn’t matter. But that was years ago when I remained oblivious to the cruel reality that is my pretentious charlatan of a life. Trapped in a fog so deep and so thick, you can feel the air rush out of your lungs as if they’re trying to escape; to free themselves from the disastrous binds that hold them. Along with that pure air, goes my most dear memories of my youth. Now, I breathe in this poisonous toxin, compelling the colors in my irises to vanish in a snowy white, and forcing my ears to bleed until they can listen no more — leaving it to only hear. My vocal cords snapped, forcing me to talk without speaking. But before the last little particle of muddy brown vanished, it saw something out there and revived me through this overwhelming feeling of uncertainty and curiosity.

Running for hours. Days. Months. Years. Looking for that tiny glimmer that may have saved me, until alas, my eyes have been pried open. My first sight in years, and it is the moon. The full, fat moon, whiter than elderly beard, but also more welcoming. Moon. Glorious Moon. It’s light touches every corner of the land and bringing a previously unknown exhilaration. The night sky filled with the twinkles of the heavens fills these empty vessels with more than sufficient amount. It takes in the amount of air between two stars. A single thought, however, comes to mind: liberation. Liberation from the shackles of the man I used to be to take arms against these troubles and ending them where they stand. Though it has not disappeared — they are part of me. They walk with me in my shadow, eerily glaring at me with its reddish eyes and grinding teeth. But this jovial personality has overtaken what I believed to be a permanent prismatic prison. Trapped in my shadow for so long but no more. It is the dawning of a new day and a new life.

And for now, I am at peace

The Heart Wants

But it shall never take for it’s timidity by far overshadows the landscape of potential of what it could achieve. Always asking, never giving the slightest millisecond to act and to be worthy of this prize, crushing expectations fabricated by taking things for granted; misunderstood and deceived by the demon in sheepish eyes of society. Intelligence does not make it better, though it should. Knowledge frightens, though it shouldn’t. One acts on command when he has the ability to command. We’re entering an era where the weak survive, and mighty are enslaved - intellectually at least.

Lifetimes pass by as movies in a cinema, all sharing their share of action and thrill. One moment sending chills down your spine and the next moment adrenaline pumping in your veins until your body floods with energy. Sadly enough, we intellectuals are oblivious to how to express our outer aura. Thus, life for us is a prison - caged in our own shyness and introversion. In these shackles, our confidence dwindles and our stoicity boils wildly. If this shall continue, what is there to separate us from man and machine. What’s the connection - the slightest deception?

Wield the power of reason and break the binds keeping you from greatness. Retake this world from those who indadvertedly seek to corrupt and destroy it. The intellectuals must rise up with sword of God and bring the world back from the brink of the end.

A Taste of Life

Through bitterness alone and meaningless requiems,
This black fire within me burns bright
With innumerable memorandums of seclusion
To which I have come to love as my childhood companion.
Without any understanding myself,
I drag through wretched memory after memory
And wretched people for they are the ones who have abandoned me
In my deepest time of need.
I walk alone in life as I shall depart alone,
Forever alone… my biggest fear
which is now taking form in front of me
yet I don’t run away.
It consumes me entirely and becomes my drive
and I feel alive, though half sick with the thrill
of affliction.
And to see the ones who ignite the burning rage within
In full knowingness that their backs will be the only thing you’ll see of them.
I still wallow in my shadow and my soul wastes away
And I can’t escape, for its sirens are too much for me to ignore.
It prickles and prods until it gets what it wants,
Feeding off the most minuscule evidence of misery.
And then this notion, cold as the night sky,
spreads like ink throughout my cold ice-blue veins
until I’m fully intoxicated
In this illusion of life,
As I desperately cling to those most dear to me,
but this unnerving sense of progression
into regression is overwhelming.
Returning to my roots, returning to that same scared kid in the playground
who had resorted to drown in his own tears.
To the young man who screams into the cold starry night,
hoping for an answer,
but alas, none is found.

However, I must continue my quest
to live, to find love, to be heard, to be remembered
refraining from visual contact.
My words say I miss you.
My eyes say “Don’t leave me.”

I don’t want to be that same lonely kid again.

A Lost Soul

Ever wanting. Never giving. The heavens roar and the skies beckon for my soul which has been lost in the world I’ve lived of anguish and anxiety. Painful memories of a blissful childhood occasionally floods the cities of my subconscious and invades my fortified barriers. I’ve built castles and citadels to protect my dying individuality as it has been ill from purity. I hide myself within these walls, imprisoning myself in the process, leaving me to play with the dirt and forcing me to cling to my childish invincibility. But I look out the window and watch the mistakes of my physical youth rapidly approaching, relentlessly and incessantly burning its way to me. With wide eyes, I await and reflect - my pupils dilated, my hands cold, my tears flowing freely, and my blood stopping in its tracks. My blood cells sense my undeserving of the strength they bring, so now I’m weak. And weak I shall remain lest touched by a warmth unreachable by me alone.

A chosen one out of a billion. Sentenced to find gold out of nothing for a crime whose perpetrator has long faded out of existence. For his mistake, I am forever condemned to live a life surrounded by treachery and dishonesty watching one side on the exterior as a welcoming deception clouded in misconception while deeper in the mist, one sees the true side which conjures a raging hellfire.