Obligated

The clutch of reality can break dreams and make known to the living soul that life’s nothing but a living nightmare now. The mornings aren’t the same, waking up to a nightmare and surviving the rest of the day to confine; to rest the mind and slip into a nightmare again. I hadn’t been judicious, I shall never be; I made the most of what I had and never lived for what was to come tomorrow: a nightmare maybe.

Life were always a compromise, from giving up on dreams to sharing whatever I felt I would keep to myself, little did I know that the trend would continue. All that I have with me are the mortal remains of my dreams, now charred by the flames of reality, never had I been a rebel, giving up and giving away what I felt was right, never had I not parted with anything that I held dear, with all things now gone: I assume I am still reeling under the burden of a debt.

Love and friendship lost for a cause, sacrificed all things good at the altar of life so that the show could be managed, the heart did bleed and it still does, fighting a lost cause for a cause now unknown.
Hidden and kept layered deep within the chambers of my heart remains something I can’t part with, all obligations aside; what would I be without it?

Life’s but an obligation now, to fake and to feel and go numb, the nags and the nagging and taunts that follow, nothing unreal here; I am still to prove my worth. All the fake smiles, and the camouflaging now shedding out, the real skin shall come to life soon. Would that be catastrophic? I guess not, the earth would open up and swallow me soon, lay me to rest six feet under, would that be less too? Yes, it would be.

None to seek, nowhere to go, none but in vain my prayers will be; they have been.
The chains of bondage, the pull of the unknown and the scaring surges of reality seem to drown me here, the high tides of life and the missing cause of life. The shattered pieces of my dreams floating all around, as I hold on to them and try fixing and sticking them together, the purpose isn’t all but lost, the flame seems dim yet burning still.

The visions of the past and all things good, the sight of the present is none but dull and doomed. Nothing to wake up to, nothing to put me to rest: the nightmare is but my only company, as I look forward to the obligation that I got to keep.

The birds chirp no more, the sun doesn’t shine too, the moon all but blood red; the reflection of blood soaked heart is now all that I see upon it. The tunnel of life seeming endless, no light to guide me through; walking on, heading on: what’s left more to suffer? None, just a small covenant, it’s life, isn’t it?

To unsee, to pretend and a sham, can’t help nor abhor. That is the only holy grail.