Friday, September 30, 2011

I shall be the death of humanity

My words wrapped up in clover,
Leave a scent of ingenuity,
Hands move towards the closet,
Opens up the wardrobe of ideas,
Senseless migraine drenches me,
In a silver spoon of dreams,
And the sun shines in full glory,
People name it as insanity,
Shining of a brain into a dream,
Leaves the marks of sanity,
Far from the reaches of people,
Whose thought process suffocates mine,
And I need a space of my own,
To ponder upon the possibilities,
How destructive my ideas could be,
And the sun shines to its full glory,
Encompassing all the certainties,
And still how uncertain life is,
Ideas need a space of their own,
Thoughts need to be diverted,
Into a downward stream,
Where the flow reaches towards my skin,
Embedded, flowing into my veins,
Like pulses waiting to perceive,
What I want me to be?
Son of a whore,
Who died due to insanity?
Or bottled up into a cramped corner,
Waiting for his time to seize,
Out of all the possibilities,
I choose insanity,
Sane never leaves your names,
Scratched on the walls,
Of this unruly society,
Idea of a genius needs to break free,
And my ideas are wrapped up in clover,
Scent begins to stream down the aisle,
An idea needs a possibility,
And I want to stand alone,
Near the peak of insanity,
Shove myself from the edge of dreams,
Dive into the river of reality,
Realize all my dreams,
Is nothing but a cause of all the pains,
So significant that hard to believe,
And idea needs a man,
And I shall be that man,
I shall not succumb to circumstances,
I shall not be deceived,
Senseless migraine drenches me,
Thirst for the blood quenches me,
I need an idea,
That shall change the face,
Of humanity,
I will make,
Atomic, nuclear,
And all the combined energies,
A pile of dirt left in belonging,
I shall be the sole idea,
I shall be the sole humanity,
I shall be the god of evil,
The god of longevity,
I shall be,
The only one to speak,
I shall be,
The almighty.

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