The Silent Observer

(Image credits: photofy)

He saw the age of time

Unfold the delicate petals,

Rare yet easily beguiling 

Of a poison flower.

Traded on the paved streets of vanity

A concoction of charm,

Fleeting bliss secretly fading in the dark.

Its merchant deluded to a world unaware

Awake yet sauntering in narrow alleys asleep.

Souls sought to grasp its strings 

Thirsting for happiness unfulfilled

For lives dreamt yet failed to live

For love, 

Love, the ghost that never lived

And never found.

"How selfish, how cruel" he sighed.

"What's life alike a dreary parasite 

Wreched, and gloom

Feeding on moments lived,

Yet truly unlived,

In ransoms of unfateful pleasures of approval and gain." He deeply moaned.

His eyes reflecting his sorrow,

He groaned under the streetlight.

None cared to pay him attention

While they wandered silently in the shadows

He carelessly barked with his heart sinking inside

He lost his one and only,

His truest friend,

The one who dearly cared.

The one he loved much.

His master.

He sighed, shaking his head in dismay, and quietly strayed on the paths ahead, sleepless, and hungry.

*  *  *  *  *

Behind the darkness

While the city slumbers in the silence,

 Behind thick velvets and dim lights.

The fluorescent yellow burn across the streets,

And the moon quietly hide behind the clouds.

There still lies a world, awake.

In the corners of the town.

Living amidst the crowd yet hid behind the shadows, Behind the veils of a gossamer gray, with spider's web weaving an intricate tapestry.

Little eyes silently peer out from their hiding place,

Their faces pale, lean frames appearing anemic, 

The unfortunate few, 

Born to wrestle to survive, 

Born under plight of poverty, their lives a constant struggle, 

Suffering the maladies of a broken and lost humanity.

Shabbily dressed, unkempt hairs, tears stained cheeks, feeble, yet they are bathed with the luster of ambition and dreams. 

Draw closer, 

And reach, to learn more what the darkness hides.

Behind the gossamer gray, 

A glimpse into the world beyond,  

A world dark, full of nothings.

An abyss of deep darkness.

The darkness of fate,

The darkness of souls,

The darkness of callous hearts.

The darkness of a world of unspoken truths,

The bitter and ugly truth.

Empty room, dim lights

Silent lips quivering in a corner

Her curls fall over her face, 

Wine drip from the glass in her hand.

She is intoxicated, 

Intoxicated, but, with grief.

She wore a cocktail dress and high heels,

Flaunting her perfect body with the glitter and glamour.

She appeared a flawless beauty.

Yet her eyes appealed something deep. 

Behind the smile and charm

She hid her story, the truth of her pain.

Her heart was secretly torn inside,

She burnt with a thirst intense,

Of promises and desires unfulfilled. 

She smelled of alcohol and her favourite perfume,

Yet the lingering smell of longings

Never faded from her.

The longing of nothings,

Of nothings left betrayed,

Of longings, none can explain.

She silently hides in the darkness,

And the world will never see nor hear her cry.

Sometimes, sadness is beautiful.

Sometimes, sadness comforts while the rest of the world suffocates you.

And sometimes sadness is all that is left, as your own.

There's always a story, 

Hiding behind the mask,

Hid behind the curtains of misfortune, and despair.

Behind the shimmery make up, hiding its scars of past,

Behind the silent lips, that cried all night, hiding a story of desperation and abuse.

Behind the smiling, guilty face, disappearing in the shadows in dark.

The darkness of awful silence, 

The unspoken silence.

The unheard truth.

* * *

A Stolen Page

She was a page stolen from a paperback,
A mystery they claimed.
Unsolved,
Imperfect

She was a heart full of verses,
Torn in pieces
Broken in metaphors
Her flesh ripped with words that wound
Crimson bleeding as ink on the pages blank
Narrating her silence
Scribbling the unspoken truth in sentences,
In paragraphs incomplete,
In letters capital
That screams her soul in ache and despair

She is a page, a sheet of glazing ivory,
Ripped off from the book
Guarding secrets inside its depths
An abyss deep,
Burning with thirst intense
Of promises and desires unfulfilled.

A page, slept in the ashes of memories
Yet folded in fragrance, of the mists of rain
That smell of longings,
None can explain

She is a page stolen from the whispering dark
A tormenting mystery
Hidden,
Unheard
Drifting silently in the haze of time
Carried by the zephyrs
From the wilderness atrocious
To the distant lands
Of everything torn.
--Sybil Samuel

ALICE

She haunts
In the daylight
Tracing me in the deep haze of memory
Her warm breath that smell like wine and ginger
Remains on the silhouette of my skin
I sense her fingers caressing my hairs,
Then nimbly scrawling her name on my palm
She cries out my name in the silence of midnight
Keeping me awake at unusual hours
I search her
Following her voice
In the distant and dark
My soul a restless wanderer
Desiring the arms of solace
To calm my weary heart.

She softly sings me a lullaby
When her heart brims with care.
Her eyes leak a fountain
That leave behind trails of ink
Rolling down her cheeks
And breaking into verses
Filling the blank spaces with her scrambled thoughts
She was a mystery
An unsual paradox
My shadow
My agony
In disguise
The ghost of a lover
Of a love
I lived in dreams
Appealed by her sobriety
Deceived by her charms
She was a poison in a golden chalice
I drank
And sank in depths of a world forgotten
I wished she was a lie
She is my torment
Still she haunts me
Living in a guise
Even in the daylight
Never seen by the waking eyes.

LIFE

Life,

A breath

That screams in welcome,

Yet a lonely sigh that quietly pass trailing behind streams of  tears.

A treachous trap
Of vanity and vice
A wisp of smoke
Fading from the grips of grit and stronghold
Beyond the will and might.

Life,
A strangled thread of breath
Clasped in the wrinkled fists of souls
Disappearing slowly like the withered leaf blown away by winds,
Crumbling silently
Numb and frozen
Asunder in the arms of dust.

Life,
Fleeting as a moment in the blink of an eye
Temporal and fragile
A beauty ceasing as the season
The glorious gaze of the shadow, peering through the    curtains of mortality,
A glimpse of a sombre existence, on a dreary winter in the mirrors in dark.

Unfathomable
Incomprehensible by hypothesis of intelligence
Simple yet convincing
Flawed though empowering
A metaphor of mirth and sorrow

An unexplained mystery
A fight
Fret hard with creased brows.
An irrevocable fate,
The smile of approbation resigning in revel or discontent.

Life a gasp of magic
A canvas of colours and emotions, dull and bright
A mistress mean
Tutoring the secret wisdom gained beyond obscurity and solitude.

Life,
A poignant misery of despair and pain
As expectancy sails on the tides of melancholy
Chasing a myriad of dreams
Falling and rising in the waves of uncertainties
Struggling to reach the shores...
With frail hearts carrying the weights
That drown them deeper
Empty, restless seeking an abode,
Searching relentlessly
A resting place
For the tired and weary soul
Captive in a prison
Scorched by cares and avarice

Life is a fleeting slideshow of illusions, dreams, images and ultimately, redundancy.
Infinite, permanent and all pervading.
The only truth there is.
While everything lures is just mere derivative.

Life
An existence beyond the hypocrisy flowing through the arteries of existence.
Beyond purpose
Beyond the evil of ignorance and hate
Beyond the gossamer veils of mortality and morality. Something transcending the boundaries of the apparent and the visible.

Life,
Transient yet immortal
A journey embarked by transcendence.

Flames of Past Love

He walked through the doors
Finally meeting his past
The silence crumbled under his feet as withered leaves squeaked and folded in dust
Her heart cried out for him from her secret chamber
Behind the high walls of the castle
Abandoned for a decade long.
She was hid in the shadows of memories
Behind the magnificence and fame, framed in silver and gold
Her soul constantly sought a home
Treading alone distances amidst the fog of time
She was a ghost without rest
Wailing in the darkness
Her tears left acrylic imprints of her scarlet tale unheard
Leaving a faint fragrance of remembrance,  of her forbidden love
The love she found and lost.
And he called out her name
Her heart breathed life again
He called her name aloud in the silent dark
The chains fell as her eyes gazed him, through the moonlight that fell on his imperial features.
She stepped out from the chambers
Her soul released from the fret
She saw him transfixed
He walked towards her
Her walls still burned with the scars of past
He walked through the walls
No more can the prison held him behind as captive
No more can any walls build tall could ever separate them
He was the ghost of a past lover
Clasped in letters of a clandestine memory
Staring freedom behind the bars of delusion
Seeking for his solace
And finally they met
And time slipped as the key that fell forever, in embrace of the glimpse of beauty captured on a river; a river, overflowing with the waters of Love.

(Image credits: Pinterest.com)

Sense of an Ending

I gaze in her grey eyes
And I find a sea of nostalgia drowning me in
The mists of melancholy blinded the view
And I found myself in deep gulfs of silence
The silent dark of loneliness
Where my soul howled alone in dark
And the deep silence fell
Fell and every shard of it
Hurt and made me bleed
And it felt as a strange foreboding,
Of an eclipse of loneliness cast on soul
It appeared as a long journey came to a sudden abrupt end
I was waving bye to the thing I had so badly desired,
Leaving me behind, deserted in a city far away
And I saw her leave
Walking each step, an infinite distance away from me
She finally turns and stares quietly standing near the door,
A single tear,
A last goodbye
And then the whistle blows,
I'm waving at the train I wanted to be in
And watch my heart sink as it leaves
A part of my soul lost with her in the unknown town she goes.

It was a glimpse,
Glimpse of a fleeting moment I gazed in the mirror of her grey eyes
It wasn't an end
But it was
The sense of an ending.
--Sybil Samuel

(Image credits: theodesseyonline.com)

Silence

How heavy was the silence that fell without noise
When words struggled hard in despair,
Hiding behind the dark, longing to be heard
Silence, bruised and bleeding,
Stood outside the door alone for words pleading.

Yet silence the one most guilty
Filling the empty spaces with questions that hurt
Questions wandering in distance and loneliness.

Silence the culprit
Silence the crime.
How grieved were words when they hanged you to die

Silence a graveyard of empty souls
Living in confusion, fears and misery
Struggling to be themselves, longing to be free.
Hiding behind the masks, seeking attention and care.

Silence the awful answer
For the hearts' prayer.

Silence the darkness,
The hopelessness...
The desperation of will that finally quit.

Silence the sigh
Resting atlast in its tomb with words engraved beside.

Silence a broken word...
The cry of a broken world.
----Sybil Samuel

(Image credits: Imgfave)

खोया है वो

वो गुम है दुनिया की भीड़ में
ना जाने क्या खोजता रहता  हैं
भुल आया है
शायद कुछ अपना
जो अब बेगानो  मे दुंढ़ता है

जाने वो क्या है
जो बेचन है उसका यह दिल
क्या गम छिपाये रखा  है
जो यूँ खामोश नाखुश जी रहा है

रफ्तार से दौड़ती जिन्दगी
कल लगती थी जानी  पेहचानी
आज जिन्दगी  है शायद कोई जेसे अजनबी
और वो एक अकेला  गुमनाम सा राही

भूल आया वो शायद मंजिल
निकला था कभी खोजने वो जिसका पता
आज पता है
लेकिन  पुराना
पुराना शहर
पुरानी इमारतें
वही पुरानी गलिया
लेकिन अफ़सोस है कुछ भी पहले सा नही

टूटे आएने मे तलाशता है आज खुद को वो
दुन्दला अक्स भी जेसे अब नज़र आता  है पराया

क्या हूँ मैं?
क्यों हूँ मैं?
है उलझन मन और ना जाने कितने  सवाल

हाँ दुंढ़ता है कुछ वो
शायद आज भी
जिसे खोया था उसने इसी दुनिया की भीड़ में

हाँ खोया है वो
उसने कुछ खोया है
जो खोया  है
क्यों हैं आज खुद वो ।

--Sybil Samuel

My Dearest Zach ❤

(Image credits: Imgfave.com)

19th July 2016, 10:40 PM

It was getting late enough to be worried.  I once again stepped into the balcony and looked down. Except for a drenched street dog lying down miserably near the gate, there was not a soul to be seen anywhere .  Rain water had puddled under the lamp post.  A breeze ruffled the mango tree in the courtyard and a few twigs fell down and broke.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  

Did I hear a soft knock at the door? 

I turned back... 

Someone had unlocked the door. 

It must have been Zach. He had finally arrived home.

I ran to meet him.  Tonight he looked a lot more exhausted than usual. I placed my paws on his branded black trousers and stood up to greet him. 

Zaccheus Nielson, my dearest, closest, and sweetest friend. The one and only Zach. 

At forty, Zaccheus was still ruggedly handsome but slowly wearing out. His tanned face was creased and his cropped greying hair had becoming chaotically unkempt. 

I stared at him for a long while, slowly wagging my bushy tail, waiting for him to lovingly hug me and call my name. I stood there waiting for him to pat my back.  But he pushed my paws away and silently walked into his room. 

There were moments like this when I felt so helpless and abandoned... and I felt the same now as I stood alone inside this richly furnished, yet sombre-looking house at the corner of the block. 

"Zach" I gasped and cried to myself in helplessness. 

I saw him, night after night dissolving in his own tears... 

Zach and I had always been best buddies.  I’d seen him grow into an ambitious, hardworking and zealous young man. I saw the rage of red in his eyes, whenever he stayed awake working late nights and at odd hours, finding his way up the corporate ladder. 

His hard work did finally pay off. I still remember that day; the glitter of gold and silver sparkling on to my face, as he beamed with pride carrying the “Best Employee” award home; how much I admired him in that velvety black tuxedo. The thought of knowing how I'd almost lost him to myself!

I stood beside him as he cried every night - right through the days, after losing Roselyn, his beloved wife. How painful and depressing had been their separation.

Roselyn, the woman of his dreams. They were like one soul living in two different bodies. Theirs was a love story that was never destined to end. Or so Zach thought. Being orphaned early in life, they both became college sweethearts - the memory of their love still lays locked behind mahogany drawers, a love story embellished and framed forever, yet sadly which didn't last. They both possessed ambitions which finally overpowered their marital life. Sometimes the house remained a silent den, and at other times it seemed a tumbled up mess of chaos as the two clashed as titans from Homer’s epics. Each was unwilling to agree and submit to the other. And this finally festooned into something unspeakable. A separation. Yes, they both had to part ways and Zach suffered from it the most. She had married again. Zach lived in her memory and it slowly ate him away.

I watched him silently in much pain just as he felt the same emitting from every nook and corner of this empty, soulless house. 

I followed Zach quietly to his room, and stood there still, as if my toes were glued to the designer tiled floor. 

Zaccheus Nielson, my handsome Zach, stood in his room near the drawer, his shoulders hunched in resignation, his eyes wet with tears. I can't say for sure, but he must have seen me standing near the door. 

"Bob" he finally called out, after an almost inexplainable and painfully long stretch of time - an hour of 60 minutes, or 3600 seconds, to be precise. The frightening silence had weighed me down.  It had scared me out of my wits. Yes, I was his pet, his Bob, a four-legged creature but with a heart and brain of my own. Yes it was a brain that couldn't rationally differientate between simple and compound interest, but could surely discern a choice between a chicken pizza and sausage. And did I mention I possess a heart? Yes I did. We pets do possess feelings and emotions too. 

That night I felt fear; I was afraid and sad and felt helpless too. Being a canine, there was very little I could do if the need arose for me to act like any human being. All I could do was bark, wag and whine.

I saw his face, he looked pale, disturbed and withdrawn; his eyes appeared like dark pits, offering glimpses of his soul drowning in an abyss, endlessly seeking, searching for some purpose. 

It was the look of disappointment that I fathomed in his eyes. 

I sought for the old Zach in him as I looked intently, but I was heartbroken, for all I found was a man searching for something, something beyond the material... 

It went beyond his top floor office, the frequent flyer miles, the applause, the crisp currency notes...  He searched for something beyond.... 

It was something transcending the boundaries of the apparent and visible. It was something I could no longer discern or understand...

"Bob" he cried my name aloud, as he hugged me firmly, tears trickling from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. 

I quietly placed my paws on his shoulders and felt his warm breath, his heartbeats were racing . I closed my eyes and groaned, understanding the pain of his shattered soul and heart. 

Then he kissed me, patted my head, and asked me to leave him alone. 

I resisted his orders. I didn't leave. I have always remained his obedient and faithful Bob. But tonight, I felt a strange sense of foreboding. 

A sudden premonition crippled and struck my heart. The air outside sat as silently still and oppressive as the air inside. 

I barked as I persisted. 

He shrugged his shoulders and simply turned back, and walked towards the drawer. 

He took something out of the drawer. 

I stopped barking and stood silent, aghast, as I watched him put a bullet inside his temple. 

"Zach" I gasped in disbelief. 

And then came the questions, all flooding my dog-sized brain: What was it that you lacked?  Fame, money, power, sex-appeal?  Wasn't I enough for you?  Your dearest and closest buddy, Bob. How many times had you promised me that we will be together, forever. Yes forever. What was it that you truly wanted? What was it that you never got? 

Zach, oh my dear loving Zach, why did you do this?  You broke your promise! Why? Why did you let your legacy end so prematurely? Oh what had you done, my dear Zach!

19th July 2016 , the unforgettable night of my life. The ashes of Zach's memory still burn in my heart. 

19th January 2017

I fled from my adopted home; my new friends will definitely find me, sooner yet too late.

Soon after Zach's funeral I was taken to my new home; they were Zach's distant relatives from his fathers side. They were a loving family of four members. They seemed to be kind and chirpy, yet something was always missing. They fed me, took  me for long walks, they took me even to a vet, yet I longed for something and that was love.

I missed Zach, it was always different with Zach; I waited for him to return from work, we shared deep conversations, I longed to hear his voice, the humorous side of Zach was something he kept hidden behind a diplomatic smile, a mask he wore to please the world, the daunting task of gaining everyone's approval . How much he hated it as each day he grew weary pretending to be the person who was successful in everything yet he failing himself. He kept denying the choice to live the person who he had always dreamt to be. Holidays, world tours, a family, kids, grandkids - he missed all this along with his busy corporate life.

I strayed and wandered on different paths for days, hungry and tired. I lacked my old strength and zeal, I had grown weak and sick. Yet at last I finally did manage to reach that one place where I sort to be the most.

It wasn't a dream; it was indeed real. I stood in the corner of the block, silently watching my house. The house where I belonged,  the place where I had dwelled with Zach. 

My dearest, closest and best friend Zach. I wish you knew how much I missed you. I wish you knew how orphaned I felt in this big wide world. I wish you had put a bullet in my head and ended my misery too. Life was meaningless without you. Yes it was. 

I miss you Zach.

(Image credits: Pinterest.com)

Special thanks to Lancy Mark (valuable assistance in completing the story :-)

Eve in search of love

(Image credits : pinterest.com) 

She treads on blades of velvet green

Wrapped in an aura of perfection and grace

Yet her eyes reveals her secret pain

As she stares the desolate land in the distance

And weeps.. 

Her tears fall as dew on the lush green grass

They turn as crystals sparkling under the golden sunshine 

Yet they are the sharp sorrows that leave her feet with scars and bruises

But still she walks and weeps in pain

Her heels bleed, leaving behind a crimson trail, that follows her to the lonely woods

Woods, enchanted and dark

Her crown slips as she strangles the silk tassel of her robe in a thorny bush

The woods are silent as they watch her struggle alone in pain

Her tears fall as the thorns prick and hurt her skin

Yet she squanders in darkness, 

In the lone aching in her soul and heart

Chasing that which cannot be found 

Searching the one which was once hers,  but now is lost

She seeks him under the dark sky lit with innumerable stars

And yet, the stars that shoot from her eyes, each call out his name

On the strings of her breaths, 

Each rhythm of her beating heart 

She calls out his name

Crying as a ghost calling out for rest 

Still she weeps.. 

As her soul embraces the solitude

And the silence hangs over as the heavy girded curtain unwilling to fall 

She longs for him... 

Each night haunted by the demons playing her insecurities and fears

And each day adding more distance and unrest to her broken heart

She screams his name even in her slumber

He was the love of her fragile little heart

Her life

Her existence

Her soul

The magic 

The misery

The mayhem

The madness inside her

He was everything she wanted

Yet everything she lost

Everything she fought for,  yet everything she quit. 

And he was her everything yet the very thing he asked her to let go

(Image credits : Imgfave.com) 

---Sybil Samuel 

*****************************:::::****************

SACHIN

(Image credits: pinterest. com) 

In the silent midnight hour, when the chaos and noise almost mutes and the fluorescent lights are visible across the streets. When the city slumbers in their comfy bed chambers and the heavy velvets are drawn across for privacy. 

There still lies a world, in the corners of the town, awake, living in the shadows, hiding behind the veils of a gossamer gray. 

(Image credits: borgenmagazine. com) 

 Their faces pale appearing anemic, lean frames with little eyes peering out from their hiding place. They were the unfortunate few, born to wrestle for survival. 

(Image credits: tribune. com. pk) 

Born under the heavy burdens laden of poverty. 

Their lives a constant struggle... Suffering the maladies of a broken and lost humanity. 

(Image credits: Google Images) 

Bewildered with grief and despair yet undeterred they were cold from weather not cold of hearts. 

Shabbily dressed, unkempt hairs, tears stained cheeks, feeble, dull yet they were bathed with the luster of unique dreams. 

If one would ever draw nearer to these, they could glimpse into an another world beyond. 

A world enveloped of darkness. The darkness of nothing,  often criticized and judged. The darkness hiding behind the shadows. Yet, The darkness heralding the approach of a new dawn. 

The world where they never fail to appreciate the dim ray of hope, the hope of grasping life .

 Their grateful hearts never craving for the ugly greed. Their lips never betraying the truth. 

Their souls humble to serve but often exploited as slaves. They embrace the dark as from the dark of nothing once human life began. 

The nothing holding everything in its grasp yet never loosening its reins to the shallow, foolish hearts of men to claim it or boast. 

It is the darkness of fate yet the dark of transcendence. Their empty hands possess the keys unlocking the doors of a world unknown. 

The Dark is often a world of unspoken truths .

The Truth often being, so bitter and ugly. 

******

Its 2p.m 

There are those that lie awake in the  silent dark hours, like me, scribbling their blabbering minds in ink on pages. 

Symptoms of Insomnia. The pleasure of the poets and writers. 

I then decided to stroll outside.

I walked through the dingy, dark streets, saw the rats squeak and nibble the bits of food from the trash in the corner. 

I was surprised to still hear the voices of some children nearby at such a dreaded time. 

Their voices intrigued me to walk the distance towards them. I stood there still in shock and surprise. 

What would kids in a country like ours do? Play the game one worships as religion.

 I saw their faces beaming under the fluorescent street lights. 

Who said night is meant only to sleep? I smiled broadly and watched from a distance as they played. 

Who would mind an amusing audience? 

And then I heard a loud voice, which made me grieve, I looked at their sunken low faces, I looked up inquired the clouds, they were thick and dark, and again the thunders roared echoing an alarm for a war in the heavens. Revolting clouds clattered pouring down sheets of heavy rain. Lightning and thunders clashed over supremacy. 

I sit  beside my desk and my burgandy diary holding my coffee mug in hand, a faint smile appeared on my face as I reflected the last event, just few minutes ago, with the little boy. 

"What is your name? "- I questioned as he stretched his hands and asked me for his cricket ball, I had picked from the ground. 

"Give me first my cricket ball" he seemed impatient so I gave him the ball. 

"Sachin" he shouted as he ran drenching in the rain back to his hiding den. 

Back into his world in the corners of the town, hidden somewhere behind the shadows, where he'll peer out his little eyes from the gossamer gray curtain. And will look with his glittering, dreamy eyes, to a world on the other side. To a world which gives him a bleak hope burning in the darkness of his reality. 

And also the world where he found his dream. 

A dream though appealing like fetching the stars, but his dream, his own one, that gave him a reason to smile and live. 

(Image credits: editplatter. com) 

Sachin the dream of million unknown faces in the dark. 

"Sachin" I muttered and switched off the light. 

*****************************************

 ©Sybil Samuel

SECRETS NEVER DIE

The sky was suddenly pitch - black like someone had pulled a curtain across.
She reclined back on a chair near the pool while her friends were still inside dancing and slurping cocktails to wipe away all the reminiscence of the event they so desperately wanted to forget. All of them agreed to the holiday in Jamaica, beaches and fun, some happy memories to trade with the old haunting ones which they decided to drain forever in foamy tides of Jamaica.
How easy could this be?
So good to be true.
While the loud music vibrated through the walls, it still felt strangely calm. The silver moon hid behind the clouds.
Someone sighed behind her, she turned around, her face grew pale, she stared unblinking, her heart was pounding hard inside her chest.
This was impossible. This cannot be.
For a moment she thought it was the influence of alcohol, she drank too many glasses. She hardly remember the day or date or even recollect the event happened within the few hours.
No. She wasn't hallucinating. It was real.
The girl standing in front of her was real. And she was alive.
A shiver wriggled up her spine. She looked around there was just the two of them near the pool.
This wasn't a ghost of past, if she allowed herself to think about this, the remorse and the paranoia would rush over her like a strong wave, pulling her under,  choking her.
"What are you scared? " the girl challenged as if she read her mind.
A look of guilt washed across her face. 

There was silence for a long while. Then suddenly she heard errie sounds ringing in her earsdrums. 

"Sorry, I gotta take this. See you later? " And she saw the girl walk away.

"Didn't we all bury her? This cannot be. "
They all sat in her room, all three, appearing as scared as her.
"You saw a ghost,  Ella? " Sam tried to reassure yet she knew Ella would never lie such a thing. Such a terrible dreadful thing.
The ugliest truth of their lives which they thought they buried almost a year ago, not knowing it would wake again to haunt them.

(Image credits: pbase. com) 

It was an old resort near a beach, where they were spending their holiday.  They sat on the beds, cuddling pillows and biting nails, while Sam sipped hot coffee wetting her tongue with some taste of caffeine.

It was 1a.m and they decided to sleep, each of them knowing they will be soon haunted by nightmares. 

"Um, guys" one of them squeaked and pointed her nail towards the doormat. 

Their faces went pale and blank, fear ran across on them. 

Ella's heart began beating faster again. She picked up the piece of paper lying on the doormat, a note was scribbled, "You can never bury Truth."

No. One of them cried, "This can't be her "

"She is dead"

Ella glanced back. She felt she heard footsteps, as if she was there, standing outside her door, watching them all. 

She looked outside her window, and caught a shadow near the palm tree. 

She froze in her place, her face drawn and pale white. It was like she'd seen something awful. 

It was a shard of memory, she clung to the image now, trying hard to convince whether it really happened. 

The memory was rolling forward. 

She tried to say her name, but her lips wouldn't work. She felt she was choking.

A loud screeching sound echoed in her ears, and she heard the four of them scream. They were driving back home from a party at one of their batch mates, not so drunk, yet one could easily smell alcohol from Sam's breath. 

"No, you didn't " she pointed her finger at Ella drunkenly. 

They came out of the car and walked towards the girl, she laid on the floor unconscious, her head was hit and she was almost covered in the crimson red. 

They gasped in horror and shivered looking at each other. 

"She was our junior, I knew her, she's Jane"

"We will be charged of a homicide " one of them uttered, it was hard to gulp down the reality. They were unable to accept how drastically their lives changed within moment of time. From a sophomore to a criminal. They could kiss their futures goodbye. 

"No.  This shall remain our secret and we must bury this truth forever." They all agreed with Ella. 

The leaves rustled. Almost ten long minutes passed but no one spoke a word. 

Innocuous sounds and shadows seemed scary in the dark. 

Was it really her standing near the palm tree and watching them?  Ella didn't sleep that night after they came home burying her, what if she was alive?  She kept asking herself. And then she let her guilt lie and comfort in her ears. You had to bury this secret. 

But the secret weighed heavy for each of them. 

"We will leave this place, Jamaica tomorrow itself" Sam announced her voice rather shaky than confident. 

They slept together in Ella's room. 

It was a dark night, howling their fears in the distance. 

But the dawn awakened and the morning sun beamed brightly in the pale blue horizon. It was a new day but the memories of the previous night remained imprinted on their minds. 

The girls sat in the cafeteria, it was less crowded yet the giggles and laughs and the tales people shared on their tables could easily be heard. 

The room smelled overpoweringly of cocoa and a faint yet comforting smell of tomato sauce and garlic. 

The smell of greasy sausages wafted through the air. Sam coiled a piece of pasta around her fork and took a big, sloppy bite. 

Ella sipped her cappuccino while trying to pull her thoughts away from the memories of last night. 

"Guys, look" one of them interrupted. 

There on the table beside the door, she sat wearing a sunshine yellow dress quietly sipping coffee. 

For an entire minute they all stared her in silence. 

"Ghosts don't drink coffee. She just looks similar to her. We all uselessly fried our brains since yesterday" Sam finally spoke. 

Her conclusions might be true. While they stared her, she looked up and turned towards them. Staring them for a long ten seconds and then she smiled, a smile less reassuring but a half smile as if she knew what they discussed. She stood up to leave but turned and smirked at them. 

"Who is she? " they were left glancing each other more puzzled and confused. 

(Image credit: Google Images )

Sam stayed inside the bathroom staring her reflection. Her breath smelled slightly of rum she murmured something nervously. Then suddenly she stood frozen, her heart pacing faster, she stared, unblinking, shivering in fear. 

She looked like she'd seen a ghost! 

Maybe she had. 

"You" her voice shaky, hardly audible. 

"You can't be alive" she mouthed with little strength still shivering in fear. 

"What are you afraid? " the girl in the image challenged her and laughed aloud. 

She dared to turn, still trembling to face her but she stood there bewildered in silence and numb when she saw there was really no one, but her. 

"We all are leaving this place now. Now I think I made it clear. "She announced loud and clear to the girls. And explained what happened with her just few seconds earlier. 

"We are leaving right now... " They all agreed. 

(Image credits: Imgfave. com) 

One month later 

The loud screech of the brakes abruptly applied echoed in the silence of the night. 

"Ella, Why did you stop? "Sam sitting on the next seat screamed at her. Alcohol could easily traceable by her breaths. 

"Look there. " Ella pointed towards the black cat.  

A long tail and two yellow beady eyes glowed. She purred and scampered stealthily across the road and disappeared into the woods. 

Ella breathed out a sigh of relief. 

There was a rustle in the bushes. Moon looked so big and bright. 

"Wait. ." Suddenly Sam caught sight of something.  "This wasn't there before. "She pointed towards a note lying on one of the car's windshield wiper. 

They all jumped out of car to read the note. 

Their appearances turned pale, fear ran across their face. 

" Secrets never die " scribbled on the note. 

(Image credits: shutterstock) 

"Guys... " one of them pointed her shaky fingers her voice almost trembling. 

They all turned to that direction. Right in the middle of the road at quite a distance from them, she stood wearing the same sunshine yellow dress, her blond messy hairs set loose, she looked straight at them and smirked. She seemed a ghostly apparition. 

"Ella drive. "They shouted and jumped inside the car. 

Ella was numb and shiver ran across her spine. Yet she started the engine, the car flickered to life. 

"Ella faster. She's only a ghost " they screamed in her ears, shaking anxiously in a fear. 

The girl stood right in the middle of the road, Ella increased the speed,  two lights came beaming from the opposite direction appearing as her glowing beady eyes, as if she suddenly increased in stature seeming like a monster hungry for a prey. And they were the prey who alone could satisfy her. 

They screamed loudly as the car passed through her in speed. She stood laughing at them and just in a fraction of seconds their scream grew even more louder as the hungry claws of the monster hit them hard and held them under his paws. 

They were hit by the truck coming from opposite direction. 

 

"Truth is, a deadly secret. " The girl whispered and disappeared. 

Free at last...

(Image credits:Imgfave.com) 

Freedom. . . 

She desired it more than anything else 

Like the caged bird wanting to fly

She dreamt of it 

It felt like reaching out her little hands to grab the tiny stars in sky

Freedom...

It was the song she earnestly longed to sing 

She was the forest of burnt woods and ashes

The fluttering butterfly clutched in the enemy's fist. 

She was the sinking dusk sun swallowed by the dark blues

She was but the bird that dreamt of wings to soar the heights. 

Her melodies were taunted by her grief

She was the lonely leaf dangling on a weak branch of a tree. 

Fraught with fear, heartaches and despair. 

She found none, no one to hear her cry, soothe her hurts or pity on her scars... 

She was the fragile heart

Broken and stained 

Freedom... 

She still longed for it... 

Freedom... 

To her freedom was now the rope, 

That hanged from the ceiling

She stood up and walked towards it... 

Her eyes stared ahead,  hardly blinking

She looked pale,  her pink cheeks were dull, they were wet with tears,  still hot tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. 

Her steps were weak, her feet were shaking

But she had decided 

 Resolute in mind

She walked her path towards freedom

Freedom from the bondage,  the slavery and the much exploits that caged her in chains.

She adjusted the noose around her neck. 

She sighed deeply. Then smiled. Knowing at last what was to come. 

She was embracing her freedom,  she closed her eyes and slept in deep slumber and none could ever wake her again. 

At last Free... 

(Image credits: Imgfave.com) 

For you. . .

I'm the endless stretch of land...
My soul is like the wanderer...
Wandering in the desert sands...
Bathing under the golden heat...
Searching for you ...
Seeking you as one desires for an oasis...

It waits for you...

Waiting...
Waiting till the morning sun sets and the sky turns dark...

It hopelessly yearns...
As the lake remains still to gaze the beautiful silver moon...

(Image credit : Imgfave.com) 

I am the seashore

And you are the waves, 

I long to meet... 

I see you hurry,  but you fall... 

And every time you rise, 

You rush passing each hurdle... 

And we cling,  though for a moment... 

And I drench in you... 

Soaking every drop of you before you return and leave me lone... 

I could wait a thousand years... 

For you a million times... 

I will wait for you... 

You are near,  but far... 

So dear to my heart... 

Close like the heartbeat ...

Far as the twinkling stars... 

Miles away,  apart from me... 

I search for you in the deep dark... 

We are two,  but one in heart... 

For you a million times... 

I look up silently and cry... 

I wish we could meet 

And stay close forever... 

I wait for you...

Dying each day without you... 

I long for you... 

As the deserts long for rain... 

I desire you.... 

You are my dream.... 

I wish you were mine. 

***********☆‡****************************** 

She's a Secret

(Image credits : Imgfave.com)

She was an art... 

Not all could fathom her beauty. 

She was a book... 

A story not for all to understand. 

She might appeal to some as ordinary... 

But she was a soul with hidden depths...

Her thoughts were like raindrops 

Pouring down from heaven... 

She hides in her secret garden... 

Hard for anyone to ever find...

Her fragrance envelopes around the delicate green bushes... 

She is fragile, but she is a beauty with a stubborn heart... 

She is misunderstood often by many, 

But there are few,  but they are few... 

But the few... 

The few... 

Who can see beyond her smiling face... 

There are million secrets a face hides. 

She is but a secret... 

A secret untold... 

Secret that one promises to keep... 

Secret buried within one soul. 

If you desire to meet her.. 

There is a promise you must keep... 

Promise without a lie... 

And you can keep her until you die... 

She is not a myth, 

But truth is visible in her eyes. 

She is hope dancing in the palest aquamarine robes... 

Her soft honey brown curls swaying along... 

She is indeed a symphony... 

A treasure bringing great peace and delight. 

She is a mystery... 

But guard her with your life. 

 If you really wish to meet her... 

She hides in her secret garden, 

Hard for anyone to ever find. 

Remember to keep the promise... 

She's a secret... 

A secret...  never to be told.

Midnight Musings

He stood silent... Staring ahead the charcoal blanket full of tiny stars twinkling brightly in the dark sky. The silver crescent moon hung over the horizon. 

He closed his eyes and gasped, then drew the pale curtains over the windows.
The room fell quiet and dark, only the dim moonlight that streamed in through the window, made it bit comforting, though, it did not fail to appeal like a haunting dark dungeoun. 

The place smelled like aged wallpaper, rust and somewhat of coffee beans.

Soon the thick dark clouds hid the crescent silver moon... The lake remained calm and still, as the glimpse of the beautiful silvery moon was overcast from view.... 

The leaves ruffled by slow breeze, the rats squeaked in their little holes, nibbling the bits of food, the owl settled on a thick branch of a tree... 

It was dark, one would be afraid of even their own shadow... The bats were the only noisiest mammals outside in such dark.... 

The silent midnight hour, when the world falls in slumber, deafened to the outside chaos and noise... 

While some struggle alone in the unpleasant dark, left bruised, abandoned and hurting...  Some hearts grieving in silence, unheard, unseen...
Weeping in their loneliness... Unnoticed...

He stooped a little, his silver teacup was lying near his favourite velvet cushioned chair, he bent low to pick it up.

Why was he still awake so late? A man in late 60s, silver grey hairs, wrinkled loose skin, searching a cup in the dark...
He lowered himself to pick the cup, the chain on his neck touched the floor, the silver cross on his chain beamed as the moonlight fell on it.
He smiled, a content smile of relief, as he picked the cup and stared the cross.

"Somethings meant to occur..." He mumbled quietly and reclined on a chair near his desk .

A burgundy color diary was kept on his desk, he lit the lamp and the fluorescent light beamed in the dingy room.
He held his smile, the gentle, warm smile of knowing. . . . knowing certain things...

He was a retired priest, silver haired man, with thoughtful grey eyes, who treasured the wisdom sought under the sun. Lived as an interested audience, watching various dramas of life unfold before him. A keen observer of life, of things... Of the peculiar, little things, that many would fail to notice. Only now, with old age holding him in its clutch, he found himself increasingly critical of the drama submitted to him.

The night was frigid and still. The houses in the neighborhood loomed huge and imposing, and most people's porch lights were already off for the night.

He closed his eyes and gasped.

And then began scribbling in his diary...

"Everything in his time"

. . . Still carrying that smile, his mind busy in musings...

"We sit with our lives in the wrinkles of our fists, unable to comprehend or understand ourselves.

Sombre, dreary mortals...

Breathing...
Time, passing away with our breaths... Moments fleeting from us with a blink...

Beyond our will or power...

Absolute certainties crumble to dust.

All the metaphors cannot truly describe Life..."

He shut his eyes and pondered deeply.

"The weights that bring us down... Hold back our empty hearts..."

He paused and stared the withered sunflower kept in a vase on his table.

"Sometimes... But not sometimes...

It is always, worth the fight.

For One Day...

All that seemed far away, visible from a distance...
Will become clear...

The blurry ... Glimpse of that something familiar...
Something we had often known... All along...
Something known to our subconscious ... To our hearts...

Something...
Our beating hearts never forgot to remind...

Something whispered as a wish though agreed with a frail heart...

(Image Credits: rashadifoundation.org)

And Then the magical thing... 

Something ..  Meant to occur ... 

As purposed... 

The gossamer thread belief one clungs to for so long... Even when the strength was gone... Amidst the rough and overwhelming trails...

Yet one hung onto it.... The shimmery gossamer thread of faith in the dark..."

He paused his gaze fell at the Sacred Heart image of Christ on his wall. 

He took a long breath, held his pen and continued.

" Resign not to fate...  It shall come to pass."

The room was silent. A long tail flickered. Two eyes glowed yellow. A cat scampered stealthily across the room.

"Kitty, my lovely fluffy cat... " He smiled broadly. 

He closed the burgandy diary and looked at the clock. 

"Time for bed..." The cat purred slowly. 

"Sleep.. (Walked lowering his head) will never be worthy of the dreams we dare to touch."

(Image Credits: flvrkids.com)

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