Stagheads and Castles…

Fires, when left burning, can bring the greenest forests down. Tangerines hanging in the air, wringing the fiery crimson out of lives, devouring upon the beauty, leaving behind corpses; what a shame?

Fires that can warm hearts, feed hunger, chase the dark away, can also cause an apocalypse when lit by the hands that are either too weak to control them or simply don’t want to. 

Each night, you travel down the forbidden paths of your mind, pick up stagheads on your way back home, and decorate walls with the rewards of your morbid hunts. You always knew there was something wrong about the way you saw the world, but when did things go so bad?

Roofs, when too dense, trap your light away from dawning onto the world. Worst… they make you feel comfortable with not having to shine as bright as you deserve to.

—–

You were once an epitome of peace; a serene brook making its way through a dense forest, flowing alongside the scants of poorly watered flower shrubs, nurturing them into beautiful gardens. 

Now, your tranquility has given into swamps; you don’t nurture, you swallow… you swallow the tiniest bit of sunshine that manages to make its way through the thick canopy standing overhead.

—–

The roof that once made you feel safe has, now, been holding you captive in a dark corner of your room, making you question all things beautiful. 

There are days you get up, walk up to the door you entered through, but immediately back away. Why? Do you feel guilty about abandoning something that once kept you safe? Do you fear being called ungrateful? Who taught you that choosing yourself was a crime? 

—–

Build castles! Back in the days, when kingdoms felt the need to put their power on display, they built mighty castles- mighty, magnificent castles that stood on top of the highest peaks- castles that spoke of nothing but strength and glory- castles that were not meant to scare the enemies away but to tell that this kingdom can fight and survive any attack thrown its way.

—-

Build castles! Tell them… tell them!

That fire…

When I walked through….

Fallacy…

The heat of these dancing flames… it feels like a taunt at my crimson wounds.

The sly scarlet mocks my fears…as I stand here, in front of this great wall of fire.

These flames…they rejoice their might, they celebrate their terror.

They laugh when they prosecute the innocent, they frown when the kids smile.

They take pride in their eternal reign…for…this fire has been burning since the first child cried for hunger…
For….this fire will burn….till the last man begs the heavens for death.

A trail of sweat trickled down my quivering spine. I misunderstood, believed it to be the silent cry of my dying soul.

But, rather…it was the elegant hail, yelled out by my enslaved ego. A song of praise for the devouring power.

My friend…. don’t fall for the trickery of her highness.

She’s not here to pull you into a warm hug when the cold world haunts you. No….!!

“Humanity is a virtue”, they say…

But… she is the fire of greed.

You are either as cruel as her….

You are either a slave to her….

Or….you are nothing at all….

– Gauri Walecha