Poem : The Spirit of Loneliness

The Dark :

She thought she knew
The spirit of loneliness
Her life, after all, was a culmination of many unfulfilled desires, of unlived days, of unpenetrable façades, of unsmiled smiles and unshed tears
She wanted to be understood, her façades demolished
She was understood, she was cared for, she was possessed
She thought of Love as exception-making
She made an exception
She loved someone who could not love
She loved the Light
Every crook of those lips danced to her smile, every shadow in those eyes kissed the Light
She was alone in the solitude of company, however
When disgust ran amuck along those pale features
Defeat and disdain found no place in her scheme of things
Her Ego was unabrasive, yet
She still loved the world that was hers if only for the night
There was no twilight now, no dawn
There was only the day, there was only the night
She thought she knew the spirit of loneliness
But Solitude wouldn’t let her.

The Light :

She’d seen it being sold, she was glad
She now had no Ego, her soul sold
Her cruelty was sad, bright and collective
Like her pale features
The features that shone without any distinction, any discrimination upon anyone
She was now free to love the ones she’d hated
She was deep at her shallowest
She was heard at her mutest
She’d left behind the one thing she loved
One thing she loved she’d loved
She charitied her soul to anyone who asked for it
She thought she knew
The spirit of loneliness
She did, it was her life, after all.

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Obnoxiously individualistic, pugnaciously social, highly opinionated, proudly criminal and in love with the adjectives.
La boheme

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