The black the white the gray of life

The black the white the gray of life

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Gone Cold

The photographic frame of her eyes catches and scans empty walls. Painted gargoyle, smelling of pungent green moss, desires set aflame. People climb the empty walls in their timidity, like little ants in hurry. Some slip in their fury and fall, some let impatience sweep them. She stares from the thicket of her lashes. Impotent to the fall each man makes, sterile of love. Emptiness feeds on nothing but abortive hope. The sun rests on her lap and the moon grins in all his evil from the sky. Frost laces her hurt and she cuts deep wounds, abrading pale skin, keen to see sign of life. Expecting a fresh warm gush of blood to fill her hungry mind. Starvation burns her insides as she sees nothing but layers of more pale skin beneath.
The window panes shudder and the snow engulfs her again. Her snowman promised her the sun…in love they would melt and become one. Then death came crawling like a spider. Pinching his skin blue. Poison spreading like fire in the forest. Irrevocable, incurable, pounding his temples and hemorrhaging her happiness, she can’t reach out for him with the sun on her lap.
She lets herself shred. Begging the sun to leave her and take her man. Melt him alone. The wind let out a moan. The moonlit night covered him in a blanket of white powder. Here he melted betrayed.
Now she is hollow. Repenting why she let her love die, how fickle is her mind, early spring butterfly.
Completely shred, so half a hand left. Waiting to build her snowman again with her hollowness!
One red rose lies there. Like a blot of blood, crimson and fresh on the eerie whiteness.
The snowman died and no one knew. They..those ants crawling the empty walls crowd among the rose of death. In their shrill voices sing an obituary piercing the dark skies with crackling thunder.
She has no grave. She died with the sun. Her soul haunts the abandoned silver woods. Guarding her snowman in a white cloak, mad beyond madness, guilty beyond redemption…
Unusual love trapped the SNOW-WOMAN. Trapped in the castle of her own fears, prisoner of her own demons…
Gone cold beyond death. SNOW-WOMAN.


  1. Eerie...but that's what catches the eye here...the melancholy and yet mysteriously magnetic glue that strings together these dark words is hypnotizing.

    Loved this one, and loving the new free form of your writing! tc! :)

  2. @ Maverick Thanks... great that it evoked those emotions in you... :)

  3. You write very dark and intense things...but one may never understand what you really mean.

    Is darkness a friend or an enemy? No rose comes without a thorn...there is beauty even in pain. That comes out through what you write. great!

  4. Yes, what can be more painful than losing the one you love, and that too when the loss is caused by one's own 'fickle mind'?

    Uski masoom tabiyat ka gila kisse karein
    Usne afsaana hi samjha mere afsaane ko.

  5. @ Syed Oh yes..that is truly the biggest of pain..glad that you grabbed the flavour of it..thanks :)