Holding Back Some LIFE For the LIFELESS

Everything fell into the deepening dead-end for every possible question thrown at him and manifested as “Orphic” at the doomed entrance of the start. Each reason that remained ferly for people had dressed up as an expergefactor for the tired desires of life this noceur was leading. Gathering the remains of his now-dead emotions, he took the funeral stage to the city of lost voices and few chosen absquatulate(s). The ashes of his living-dead love were knotted to his dried pupils and the last-breathing desires were stuck to his mapping feet, which said goodbye to the downhill a long time ago. 

 

Searching his way through the constantly distracting burble of the Koshi river his uncombed hairs and unsettled heartbeats finally found their respective existences on the peak of Kanchenjunga. The reveries he had cultivated on the barren dark soil of his infertile love and the quench misspelled as hiraeth got their rooms on the freezing altitude of the mountain that had aggressively agreed to not let the world of reasoning and practicalities hear even a feeble incorrect pronunciation of the rejected letter that he was going to read out to the families of clouds and gathering of the stars that still cater to a few astrophiles on the land of billions who choose to sleep early. However, that evening, the mighty Kanchenjunga witnessed the darkest version of pain! The darkest version of LIFELESS...

 

His long and seemingly impossible climb had finally led him to the point he had carried the logs of his memories to burn at and hug the warmth of the rising flames shaped akin to the murderers of the jouska which he loved to keep alive every night. 

 

All he had back then was a body full of pores, the pores that were born to his body by the rain of the needles molded by the blacksmiths who were once gifted with the consistent, unfiltered crust ore of the fulfilling LOVE and silent CARE that no one else mastered. The smiths made this ore melt and crafted swords of INTOLERANCE and mastered the art of BELITTLING every amount of truthful tears and pleadings.

 

The zephyr hiding in folds of the unfolding time decided to pull down this warrior as he had removed the Armour of patience. Gushing through the pores of this body the wind however made the repeated cruel attempts of pulling out the remaining reasons his life breathed for. The setting sun silently looked upon the assassination of the fighter... And the sky was drenched in the scarlet from the sources of his wounds... It was time for the stars to come... 

 

He was turning LIFELESS while the fast-moving air continued its malefic act. He fell from the cliff... Floated all through the way down to permanent nothingness... Absolute darkness hosted his dead intentions... 

 

A few pieces of poems were left swirling somewhere inside the caves Kanchenjunga had...

 

A few stars held back some love for the lovelorn...

A couple of numb requests held back some Breath for the Breathless..

A Goodbye trapped in a few teardrops rained down on his carcass, made his black heart beat again for a couple of times while...

Holding Back Some LIFE For the LIFELESS.

  

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