Have you ever seen the power that resides within a single knife? The potential danger that resides within a single blade is immense. Specially so in the wrong hands.
The nature of power which I now speak off is fluid. It is the ability to exert change. Power not merely to destro but also to create. To bring peace.
The knife, is an instrument that readily comes to life in the hands of a man who appreciates its powers. A well cared for knife gleams with the superiority and pride of a predator.
Small, sharp, simple and ready to use. It cuts and pierces through flesh soothly, leaving behind a soft, smoth and clean trail of blood.
Its cuts may not kill instantly or even hurt or send sharp jolts of pain coursing through your entire body instantly. But a knife is surely the greatest tool of precision for carving up the flesh.
Surely surgeons, butchers, cooks and artists alike would agree to the artistic nature of the knife's power.
Within the shine of the flat of its blade is an artistry and vibrance that reflects the world around it. Wildly does sunlight sping off its smooth steel face into your eyes, reminding you of the purity of the blade's essence; merely a reflection of the world. The world so far away.
Its sharpened edge whispers to the minds of those who would listen.It beckons constantly for its reason to be fulfilled. It craves to be used. You could almost say it hungers for blood.
Gladly would I give my blood to the knife. The taste of steel upon skin, it awakens me. It silences my wounds; temporarily.
When one is badly hurt...
"Drowning in the dark blood of would be brothers who, beyond the pressing of fingers , those for whom the slice is only the beginning, and a different kind of light comes in, begs recognition and piece of mind."
- Judybats
One would have to ask, why turn to the knife when seeking God's help and having faith in Him would hurt much less?
Minutes pass by
Slow as can be
How time does fly
As a bird so free
Tick. Tick. Tick
Years crawl on
Twenty and counting
More unfound
In youth a fleeting
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Decades ongoing
Nothing remains still
Summer till spring
All life his its fill
Tick. Tick. Tick.
At the end of days
When movement ends
Time lays to waste
And life returns to God's hands
The final tick...
Before life begins...
Allahu Akbar.
Dreams. Man's most lethal form of reality.
Every man lives in his own world. Every man tells his own story. He shrouds himself under the covers of his own dreams that none else could comprehend but for him. That is the truth of our reality.
The realnes of the world is merely the collective influence of mankind's dreams.Our society is a sub-conscious creation of our imaginations. Our society is what we make of it. God made it such.
Life is nothing more than a dream in livid color. A dream filled with trials and hardships as well as temptations caught in a long slumber away from the gates of heaven. As long as we remain tied down to these dreams, we will only be a shadow of our true selves.
This world we now live in - this reality that we believe in - is nothing more than a gift. A small virtual world of dreams made to satisfy the human spirit's curiosity and lust. It is a lure that slowly drags us even deeper into this dream we've made our reality.
And as long as we remain in this state of dreaming, we may never find out what it feels like to be truly complete. As long as man lives within this playground made by God, he may never experience true peace and happiness. At least not until he learns to look beyond his dreams to the inescapable reality of this world's finite lifespan.
That eternal existence beyond our dreams is what we ought to be looking for. Man's tendency to lose himself in the virtual life is the bane of his future. To look beyond the illusion of the present life is perhaps the only way to escalate beyond our dreams.
Many among us are perhaps well aware of this. Some of us choose to release themselves from the absolute grip of this world through the window of the faith in God.Then there are also some of us who choose to continue and live through our dreams and not look past them. so we lose ourselves in this day and age. Thus has mankind lost his place in heaven to the entrappings of his dreams and selfish desires.
Or is there really nothing more after this "life"?
I pass down to you my boy
The greatness of our fathers
The wisdom of all mankind
The traditions of our race
Our people live in history
Mentioned in our forefathers' stories
Reenacted in legends and myths
Forget them not my child
Their blood runs in your veins
My blood echoes in you
We are all a part of you
Our greatness lies within you
But we are dead
Remember our teachings dear son
All that we've learnt we give you
Our minds are now yours
Taught by commands, follow them well
Remember us dear child
We know what you do not
We know what you will
We pave for you the way
Yet our minds are gone
Forget not the way of the people my boy
Traditions we've made for you
Use them well for good
Take them to heart
We pass the baton down to you
As my father taught me
So have I taught you my boy
Forget us not
For your father is dead
A part of you disappears
A part of you reappears
You are constantly changing
Constantly living and dying
Your blood is a part of your soul
Each drop an entity on its own
A single dot of sand upon the beach
Unimportant alone yet still part of a whole
Live began its journey small
You began no bigger than a doll
Your life began in a body not
It all started in a single clot
Every drop of red viscousness
A single sign of life minute
Flowing through tunnels of flesh
Pumping with life never to rest
Work on till you die
Keep on working till the end is nigh
Blood, Oh essense of life
From that alone could existence derive
Buried with the harrowings of life
Stirring in bouts of burning anger
Flushing red in joyous passion
Every flowing moment is redly coloured
And then a day will come
In your lifeblood you will drown
With it will time stop for you
And start again it will never do
The fuel of man's immortality
Will one day run dry
When all blood has run from his face
He'll know that all need to change is done
Pain. More specifically, emotional pain. Sadness, grief, tears. Mental scars and meta-physical torment. Heavy melancholy: Broken hearts.
Only time can heal invisible wounds. Friends lighten the load, family shares the grief and the mind, the penicillin of the heart. The pains of the soul have no medicine. No medicine 'cept for faith.
Silent nights spent under the lights of the moon and stars; Lying upon the soft carpet of dew and grass recalling troubles long past.
Hours counting to the irrevocable conclusions, contemplating and recalling. Forever reminding of what's lost and gone. Regret.
There is truly no pain greater than the pain of the heart. That is what a man caught in his saddest of days would agree to. But of course, the pain is merely a reflection of the weakness of a man's strength of will. Or perhaps, a measure of the strength of a man's will instead. Who knows.
The power of the heart is a very strange one. It is capable of bringing with it as much pain as it is capable of harnessing great joy.
Perhaps there-in lies the answer to countering the suffering of the heart. Only in finding joy can the broken heart be mended. Sad to say, there is no joy that will not fade away and no pain will remain out of sight for all time.
All that's left to do is to weather the storms and seek to find the light at the end of the tunnel.
Face the pain that you feel. There is no use in shying away from it. It will always be there with you.
"Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters." - Jim Morrison
*Kneel down*
Had you known what I'd known and seen what I've seen, you'd understand just how much you mean to me.
In your darkness and silence, you've hidden your tears and your pain. You keep showing your smiles and your happy face. But to me, you are older than you look. Colder than you feel. I can feel the depth of you. The depths of which you refuse to let me reach. I'm drowning.
I don't understand. Can't you see I yearn for you? Don't you know I care for you? Won't you let me feel for you? Why don't you let me love you?
You shy away from me as if in fear. Am I really that ugly? Or is it just that I can't make you happy? Perhaps I can't hold your interests long enough. There must be something wrong with me.
But you keep saying no. That it's not my fault but yours. As if you're not good enough for me. As if you're a tainted and lowly breed.
Do you really think yourself so low? You can't really think that right? Perhaps you wish me to find a better woman. Someone more fine or divine. Can't you understand?I don't want anyone but you.
You who can make me smile. You who treads the paths of good and bad. You whose touch sends tingles down my spine. You who have become everything in my mind.
You wanted someone who was willing to try and understand you. Someone who'd be there to be happy and sad with you. Someone who would HELP you. Yet you are keeping yourself away from me when I try to approach you. Was I moving too fast? Are you just not ready for me?
If so, then I could wait. But there is something more isn't there?
You are being held back by something, or someone. I wonder which is it. Do you just have no feelings for me? If you hold absolutely no interests in me, if you find me a total bore, then I beg of you. Tell me! You seem to treat me more as a burden.
Or perhaps it is just me. Have I misunderstood you? I really am trying. But you don't seem to understand yourself either.
Can't you see that we could make it together? We may be different in many ways, but we have our similarities too. They may not be apparent. I only wish you would not fear me so.
Give me a chance. Please.
I beg you.
*Fades*
When a man falls in love with the soul of a woman, he loses himself in her. And as soon as she pulls herself away. He loses himself...completely. Only a woman could drive a coward to leap into uncertainty to grasp at the shadows, hoping to reach the heart of her soul. Only a woman could send a man kneeling out of his own free will. Could any man be as foolish as that? Could any man be wiser than that?
booo...~
Rain amid clear blue skies
Neither dark nor sun-shiny bright
Hide behind broken smiles
With the mists of memory
Fades time past
Cradled in dreams
Are love and lust
In eternity find
Both of us
Bronze and aged
The color of rust
Forbidden by rules
Held steadfast
Retreat in the end
We know we must
To an end
As clear as glass
Retreat from this land
One day we must
One of us crumbles
Turning to dust
Another disappears
With the light of dusk
One is the body
A material mask
The other the mind
An invisible crust
Once both is lost
Burnt by age
Found will be that
Is the core of man
:::amid the shadows of trancendence:::
thoughts, principles and philosophy is the main point of discussion. Subjects ranging from love to music and life can be discussed here. Anyone is welcome to post their thoughts on my articles in the tagboard. And feel free to tell me if you think I'm wrong. I'm open to criticism.
