thoughts

slouched against the sand bricked wall, laying on my pool of blood
with a scene of the sunset in my vision and the cool wind blowing against my rough scarred skin.
a welcomed calm inside the eye of a storm but also the inevitable invitation to serious shit
in grievous pain, i retrieve memories of the past, reviewing them one by one like an image slide show
a smile forms at my face but a hint of sadness resides in my heart as i regret many things that were part of my life, undone and done.
without warning, pain rushed into my body, knocking me unconscious as i leave myself to the hands of fates.

awfully tired I am and exhausted from the routines of life.
how i wish for someone to pull me out from that spiral of endlessness until death.

the king choked, his eyes wide from shock from the sudden engagement.
kneeling, he struggled to breathe, clutching his throat to plug the hole at his neck,
as blood flowed like a river stream.
he tries to speak, but only came the gurgling of the blood in his mouth.
weakening, the king gradually crumples on the floor on his side and knocks over a cup of yellow honey water.
the masked figure dressed in black approached and took a knee beside the king.
lifting the king's head by the chin, the figure stared into the eyes of the king.
a pair of burning red eyes pierced into the king's soul, painfully.
deftly, the figure delivers successive 3 stabs into the king's chest, drawing more blood and quickly forming a pool around the king's body.
the carpets became sticky and dark red and yellow from the blood & honey water mixture.
by his ear, the figure whispered, 'death claims you, my liege.'
then the figure rosed and walked towards the bedroom door.
almost lifelessly, the king watches as the figure opened the door.
a strong gust of wind entered the room, lifting the curtains up and flickering candle fires, causing shadows to bend against the stone cold walls.
almost certain to leave the death scene, the figure suddenly stopped.
the figure turned, facing the king and a bell jingled.
a hand removed the facial disguise, revealing the identity of the figure.
recognition sparked in the king and he noticed a tiny tear trickled down the figure's face.
the figure's face was a mask of misery & sadness.
then melting into the shadows of light, the figure disappeared.
before life truely left him, the king whispered a name.
a name that he had liked and maybe, at times loved.
then finally, the king took his last breathe and spoke the name once again with a bitter sadness.
fayle....

dressed in red, she walks a path of despair
leaving behind a trail of death and sorrow
an unwillingly yet willing player to the hand of above & below
to the little girl she says
choose and fight bravely
a blaze of fire & ash engulfs her suddenly
yet she does not scream in pain, not even a shy of a shrill
but her eyes glowed a passionate red, looking into the heart of the little girl
as a tiny tear fall slowly down her cheek
almost instantly, she disappears into the darkness

pain reminds me that i am still alive, a pleasurable/tormenting sting to my senses
too long without, i'll stone and be petrified
too many, i'll rather die; quick & surely
i wonder what a strong, sharp & deep pain would do?
remind me of the old wounds that have faded along with time?
or perhaps, let me see visions that i should not be unveiled to
pain, bane, sane, cane - as you've written.

decided to make a last minute decision to go to Bali with friends.
madness? lol
hope to get some inspiration there and at the same time relax before the term starts
would be back on friday
got to go...LOL plane leaves at 7pm, look at the time.