Friday, April 25, 2008

Today As I Stand


I often imagined myself,
standing on the railing of my balcony...
I would often think of the plunge that
would perhaps purge me of all miseries...

I would often jest about, standing on the railing of my balcony
to all those who would want to hear and give the desired expression.
I would often consider it the easy way out
of life's challenges
The way, often taken by the cowardly...

I would often laugh at the idea
for I knew it would never happen,
I am a mortal, I appreciate life

Today ...
My condition has finally given way...
The emptyness of life has finally forced me to do something which i never imagined i would.
Now as i stand here,
Its strange...
my limbs tremble... as they had..
never before..
my heart beats, like i had run a thousand mile...

But my mind is numb...
After being constantly chased by tumultous thoughts
all these years
it has finally paused for breath

Today as I stand on the railing of my balcony
I hold Life and Death in each of my hands...
Its my will which I Choose
which i Cheat

Its my will...
Which i save, which i damn
Today, Its my will, which decides destiny

As the sun bestows
its last, an orangish glow
I feel the warmth
Today as I stand on the railing of my balcony
from where, the world has always seemed my regime

for the first time,
I feel, the eternal power
Today as i stand on the threshold of life and death
I feel,
I am God...

3 comments:

Adrian said...

Hello Archangel! I see that you are new. It is to be seen always interesting how somebody builds its side.

Anonymous said...

i feel the same when i stand at my terrace looking out at the busy highway out there...carrying beacons of dreams - moving cars, headlights, traffic lights...
at that moment, there is this urge to end it all, now that i've seen it all..love, hate, betrayal and that purest joy with no strings attached up there on the terrace.....
"if it were now to die, it were now to be most happy.."

Adrian said...

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide - Albert Camus