Section 1: Curse


Prologue


The same passionate fire that drives my soul

Turns out to be the one that burns it to a crisp




Curse


Born with this silent disease

Yet raised without a cure

I'm gifted with a curious curse 


In this library of words

Is where you read my world

Though a library more still left untold 


A decade left untreated

A sea pressured into a single bottle

Thrown far away from this accursed isle 


May it reach a kindred spirit

Who would read and understand it

To turn dust in the air to concrete


Concrete from which I shall build

An empire, or a shelter

Soundproof, against the noisy whisper


The noisy whisper

The curse I could never cure

Even with streams of reams of words




Pretty Puppet


I'm dressing up tonight into a marionette

Attaching strings to my limpy limbs

So they can play and dance the ideal me


I'm drawing myself a perfect portrait

To be displayed on the wall of fame

So they can see the flawless me


My strings are chains to their brains

My poise attached to their eyes

My value defined by their truthful lies


My satisfaction shackled to their expectations

My beauty lies in their comments

My happiness in their compliments


They are the puppeteers

The masters who decide my worth

The witches who create this curse


While I'm the puppet

A pretty one, in fact

Who must be perfect




Snowflake


Don't blame me

if a falling leaf in fall

from over a mile

stirs me from my stupor.


Don't blame me

if the snowflake that touches

the tip of my nose

makes me shiver for an hour.


And don't blame me, dear

if the butterflies' flutter

ever stir a gust in here.

You shan't blame me.


And neither shall I blame you.




Imperfect


Discard the defect

And keep the perfect

That's what they all said


Leave all dirt at the door

Leave no dust on the floor

There's no room here for any flaw


Or hide them behind the curtain

Bury the corpse into the dark

Just sweep it under the rug


Display only perfection

Preserve the brilliant diamond

But burn away the black carbon


For an ideal world exists solely for beauty

And beauty lies in their eyes, not mine

In this utopia this soot cannot shine




Flaws


Somewhere among those stars

Elsewhere among these flaws

In a world immensely vast

I find myself lost


I didn’t ask for this face

Neither did I ask for this voice

I can but embrace

But have grown sick and tired of the world’s noise


Someday their voices will sink in mine

And I’ll no longer drown


I’ll swim across that sea of flaws

And escape this wretched town




What Good Am I


What good am I

If I can’t even smile

If my laughter fails to lie

If I don’t even try


What good am I

If I can’t be as wild

If I can’t get as high

If I’m not in style


What good am I

If I’m not the same

Lame and not as fun

And I’m not like them


What good am I

A bird with its wings

Yet cannot fly

What good am I…




Anxiety


Storm brewing

Anxiety kicking in

No gale as warning

Not even a whirlwind


So there and then it went

Swaying me yet again

Greeting a good old friend

Barging into my vein




Original


I am ever afraid of being a mere clone

Of being a product of my peers, and not of my own

I want to be myself, not my faceless shadow

I want to be the pioneer, not some distant echo


I want to be different, even if it means being alone

Unlike a pathetic copycat wannabe overly-known

I want to do it my way, and not labelled a mime

But then what is a poem if it does not at all rhyme




Uprising


A gentle rebel by birth,

an awkward coward by curse,

I'm the whisper within your noise

but still a voice, with its own poise,

with its own choice




From Afar


Let him be a stranger

Whom you'll always admire

From a safe distance


You may marvel at the surface

But don’t ever come near

Don't dig or dive deeper

Or you'll discover

The untold truth of one's nature

That under the water lies a monster

In the utter darkness and pressure

That underneath that layer lies a colour

One you couldn't see before

You've never heard of before

And you wish you hadn't

All the while, you adored the wrong person

He's but an empty shell, a false idol

Gold-plated to conceal his rust

Constantly cleaned to remove any dust


He’s the moon whom you wonder at when he’s full

Beautiful but only because he reflects the Sun’s light

But come much, much closer, and you shall witness

Its lifelessness and surface full of craters


Some are just better on display

To be watched through the glass, from the perfect angle

Not to be possessed, and not to be handled

While they shine under the light

And you observe outside the line




Fallen Angel


They tore up my pair of wings

And pushed me down the drain in the rain


So now I grow a pair of horns

Out of the rose thorns they threw away


Sometimes pain makes a hero

Other times a villain, if both are not the same


From their cold shadow

I shall show them the fire within me one day




Playing the Villain


I'm burning this accursed album down to ashes

Before the living pictures reduce me to tears

While discarding these dense shards of memory

Before the sharp pieces get to cut and pain me


But then I patch the smithereens back into a pane

And look at my reflected image down the lane

I'm tired of playing the same fragile victim yet again

Tomorrow you shall see me be the cold villain




Villainy


I adopt the villainy

And embrace the darkness

Just so that I can see

What’s left in me that glisters




Who Would You Rather Be


Would you be a sad, mad, man

Rather than a bad guy


Eternal abysmal wound

Or grotesque scars of sin


Would you rather be a victim

Terrified yet petrified by death


Or would you live in regret

As a guilt ridden villain?




Epilogue


Mother told me to be bold

And not to be a fool

But I became both

For I couldn’t tell between the two


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