Ominous bays of hellhounds thunder in the bleak night
As a shattered glass slipper is found amongst powdered ivory snow,
The glint caught within incorporeal warping moonlight—
Leading to a blue grey corpse, mangled with frozen tears cemented in place.
Hands clenched around a copper timepiece,
The minute hand paused at one past twelve.
The putrid scent of desperation still hangs heavy in the air.
A note, scribbled in vermilion, is tucked within her bosom:
I'm sorry. I was overwhelmed—and so very lonely. She came to me with promises of grandeur. All I had to do was make a pact: be home by midnight, or my soul would forever be hers.
How could I resist? She seemed so innocent, with the smells of childhood lingering—conjuring up all that is glorious.
Besides, you, my dear family, seemed not to notice, nor care, about the pain quietly consuming me. So I took the deal, inked in blood and sealed with a poisonous kiss.
If you happen to find this note, I never made it back in time. And my fate lies within her mercy.
When my eyes meet your gaze
The first eon in surprised time,
Brushing into each other in a cafe
The earth somehow wakes,
It knows your flesh
embracing our marrow's warmth
more encompassing than life's fate
that my breath stumbles into ticks
of nightfall's irrepressible lightness.
You are received by my body
as much as sky's flame--
Perhaps more
As we breathe the same wind.
Could this be a new fondness?
...Yet raw this earth that wraps us incorporeal
like stardust itself ;
And nameless as shadows
in deserted moonlight,
nick of time freezes without notice
aligning our birthright with destiny
and like the clockwork of serendipity
no one dares speak.
Off the sharp edge of the world, am I stepping?
Do mirrors start whispering as shadows prepare to sing?
The way it looks through me, its soul swallowing
Where do I flee from here to delay from disappearing?
Pull me out, that I might find my reckoning
My feet grow weary of all this merciless sleepwalking
Deafening, I hear my heart softly breaking
Wandering through this maze; pining thoughts, forever aching
Pains past now present, a conclusions threading
Through every year, no cords cutting; my dreams were fruitless and fading
Am I found incorporeal, shy of dissipating?
The weight of sorrow is fully capable of suffocating
Falling out of love is hanging me by strands unyielding
Yet, in the blind, I continue seeking out light still glimmering
Searching for a flawless dawn; where my heart finds its healing
In this broken cardiac state, I find my reflection staring
when i reach out
I touch aether
when i hold you
im clutching a cloud
when we talk
hours float by
and when youre gone
i still feel you by my side
but sometimes
when you leave
a part of me
my incorporeal hands
clutch grains of sand
but they always phase through
like nothing i do
ever impacts you
"Voices in the Dark"
waking,
the echo
of a voice remains
from the mind’s
open door, the anima
from its fathomless cavern
speaks to
its animus
independent, alone
from its Xanadu
incorporeal
magik incantations ensue
shadowing the other
a stormy kiss breathes life
into some strange morning
rising with intent
carrying a profound promise
fearless and magnetic
it’s selling solidarity
like some
beautiful monster I Am
with a contagious offering
it smiles and
holds its hand out to you
walking
towards you
anywhere
through your mirror
it stands for you
calculating, collecting
its dark reasoning
ignites your light
and drinks you in
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
anima.
animus.
morning.
mourning.
Nocturnal soulstice
Drown me slowly in
Fields of fractal curiousities,
Adrift in non reality caves
littered with magic pearl wisdoms
with envelop stars. Pulsar opals
lit by flame, hugging in square
circles 'round blue charged
cozy monastery marinas.
Ascetics assuming lotus blossom bliss
Incarnates huddled in full measure light,
gently colliding space in time.
Would you believe that which I believe?
Will I become who I believe?
Can I believe that which I believe?
If no reality, no belief.
If no belief, nothing is real.
If nothing is real, nothing exists.
If nothing exists, we are emptiness.
If we are empty, what are we?
Incorporeal representations of the classic tenent--
To be or not to be.
You Are
You are clam as moon.
You are independent as sun.
You are deep as ocean.
You are high as mountains.
Your face has a special brilliance,
My heart says to have faith in you.
But why, I don't know.
You are incorporeal,
Your apparition is like solace.
Your redolence give me tranquillity.
Your beauti is comparable to rainbow number of colours are there.
You are pearl,
You are my own paradise.
You are my happiness,
You are my life.
I want you to own me, otherwise life will be end less nothingness.
There will be no sight, everything will be blur if you will be be mine.
Angels are jeleous, fairies are talking, the one who's behind.
Beauti is precise like a incomparable embellish.
Your smile which makes me alive.
By @Kill3rheartshreshth
This page is intentionally left blank.
It is intentional,
a deliberate attempt act of obscurity.
These are the words you are not reading.
These words do not exist.
Their appearance exists nowhere,
They are ghostly and untouchable.
They are empty invisible vessels,
Voids, absent content.
Your brain is intentionally left blank.
You only think you are thinking.
You are not thinking.
Your thoughts cannot be traced.
The mind on which you rely
cannot be found.
Your passions are intentionally left blank.
You cling to incorporeal beliefs
and judgements.
Your hopes and dreams,
Your loves and hates have no essence.
They are disembodied and intangible.
You create your own meaning
and order.
You impose it on all your blank pages.
Vedic legends in centrifugal swirl,
whirling, twirling across this world,
in and out through many planes;
counter-active, gravitational things.
Vimanas high in nebulous skies,
legendary, ego-driven butterflies;
worlds are conquered, worlds undone,
according to ancient, mystic tongues.
Upanishads and Samar, Mahabharata, Ramayana;
even in the Samaranganasutradhara;
words have power, words have strength
and they will ride upon wavelengths.
Cast your dreams upon the skies,
upon Vimanas you may ride.
when the spirit embarks upon a quest,
it rides with incorporeal zest.
Man Pisces/Taurus blend; that I be open to things that run in opposite directions.
Age a recognized state of my socialized being, my frame of reference, me.
Life a block of time I have been given to dis/rediscover myselves.
Change that Constant, directing us to ever, waiting means of end.
Divorce seeing my Wanting, as not the same thing, as my Needing.
Seasons, poignant experiences lasting the lengths of my life to all points.
Wisdom all that's truly attainable, as human, while on this earth.
Love the one emotion that's never been universally applied to our resolve.
Death the Great Escape we fail to see as sublime and liberating.
Infinity that ethereal open range to everything untitled, incorporeal.
A flying bird I am for heavenly flight;
No enthralling branch can hold me tight.
Free I am from all the passing years;
not submitting to the baseless fears.
Free I am from all the worldly chains;
staying away from all the bodily pains.
Free I am from all the endless desires;
not burning self in the lustful fires.
Free I am from the fleeting attractions;
never indulging in the vicious intentions.
Free I am to fly beyond all limitations;
remaining away from the wonted tensions.
Free I am from all the formal appreciations;
undisturbed by the dreadful rejections.
Free I am from all the religious rituals;
Unaffected by the deeds of other individuals.
Free I am from all sensuous pleasures,
always filled with abundant treasures.
Free I am to reach the highest goal
in incorporeal world with the Supreme Soul.
I am still sleeping with your spectral body
sharing my bed with your incorporeal consciousness.
Even now can recall the taste of your dreams
for enfolding myself with your astral vestige.
I am like air yet earthbound because of you
in my turning, I no longer can return to the highest deep.
Your rising was my fall
for my end became your beginning.
Crying these tears of mirror shards
the next page in the book of reflections was turned.
And nothing left behind
but comforting the ghost.
This universe is constellation of wisdom
She is not there to give you a home
Depending on you she does not, any moment
Live or die, she neither smiles nor weeps
It will be there not bothered about you
You build or destroy she cares not
For she was there before you were
She will be there after you have gone
To her, man is a figment of existence
Those who shout only make noise
The masters are shameless dreamers
In this universe of incorporeal existence
In this universe of huge ignorance
Human knowledge is full of black holes
Where activities are driven by dark matter
Even the thorniest of minds shudder in awe
Our eternal eye of faith
is a celestial optic organ
that views holy spectra
having heavenly virtual vision
Luminescent lights of love
auroras of God's glory
radiate and illuminate
multiple majestic dimensions
not seen with man's mere intellect
The pupil of divine faith
sees beyond the mundane
Its lens of love opens hallowed
avenues of virtuous vision
This pious force of faith
maneuvers massive changes
repositioning material
and incorporeal matter
Without this esteemed
internal iris of faith
operative in our lives
it is impossible to please God
Incorrigible
Incorrect – uncorrectable
Ideas incorporeal
Beginnings to incept
Ideology to inject
A reality too surreal to accept
An indifference that infects
A fate begins to seal
Evidence to detect
Death at the door and loss at your heels
Realization life is a wreck
Too afraid of the now, the real.
Face the charade of your situation
Face how disappointment feels
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