If You and I

If you and I were meant to be;

Why are we apart? Why are we hurt?

If you and I kept each other happy;

Why did it feel like we were alone?

Even though we had each other.

If you and I were the answers;

Why did the questions change?

If you were in love with me;

Why was there a need to lie to me?

If you were waiting for me;

Why did you choose to travel alone?

If you and I were to make it through;

Why did it shatter along the way?

If you and I were whom we wanted;

Why did I stop becoming whom you need?

If you and I were a song;

Why did the music stop? No one’s dancing.

If you and I didn’t need anyone else;

Why was I the only one who lost his family?

If you and I were each other’s words;

Why did we become silent? We lost our words.

If you and I were “WE”;

How could you break that one thing that mattered the most to me?

You and I weren’t meant to be; we were destined to be strangers with some memories.

©theblackcurse

Oblivion

We run around hither and thither,
Unaware and unabashed.

We walk around the corners,
Not knowing what’s waiting for us there.

The darkness is somehow eerie.
The mornings dreadful to our very existence.

Why do we fear? When we don’t have anything to lose?
After all, who’s gonna leave this world with what they choose?

There’s nothing to dread, dear child except fearing Oblivion.

© the black curse

Picture courtesy ~ Debasmita Chakrabarty

The flower within

I once touched a picture,
It spoke to me in a thousand different ways.

I saw the incredible paint and the delicate brushes,
Take over my senses and giving me adrenaline rushes.

I stood there placidly,
Noticing the work vividly,
I tried to understand what it conveyed.
Whether the painter wanted to express a lot of happiness like the sunshine during winter season,
Or was it a metaphor for the darkness within mankind itself?

They say flowers are a way of telling everyone how beautiful life can be,
They say even blind people like me can touch the petals and try to see.

They say the aroma of the sunflower is one of a kind,
And those are the times I wish I could see what was there Infront of my eyes.

But then again, aren’t most of us blind? Even after having what I don’t have?

© the black curse

Artwork by NILAKSHI SARKAR

The Mosquito

I’m trapped inside the bathroom,
The lights are off and there’s a foul smell around here somewhere.
Oh how I wish the window was open but it is bolted from the outside
And I don’t know what to do now.

The Sunday is leisurely passing me by,
Everyone is quite happy and content with their lives.
The lunch has been served at the big, brown dinner table,
And the family has gathered around to have a sumptuous meal.

I cough up some blood; everyone stops and stares for a while.
I excuse myself and go into the bathroom to wash my face,
I stand there thinking about someone who used to stay nearby
but now she stays away; we’re miles apart.

I can here the buzzing sound,
It is still here somewhere,
I open the bathroom door and windows,
And then I return infront of the mirror to see my face replaced with a long black pipe of some kind.

I can’t speak. I can’t call out to anyone outside. I’m hapless right now.
All that I hear is a buzz and then I realize I’m the one making that annoying sound.
I lock myself inside the bathroom, I know there’s no way out.
And then I see it flying out the window;
I cannot grasp it in the palm of my hands.

The mosquito flies out. Smiling at the irony left behind.

©theblackcurse

Inspired by Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.