Dark Skies


Sometimes the simplest words speak louder,

And the flustered actions become clustered

And boxed into things we don’t understand.

The sky still bellows your name as I walk,

And I try to peel back its layers in hope




But I can’t.

There are times I try to lick the sky to

Seal the envelope, to drop you in the post,

To send you miles away to only,

Then, want you to





But I can’t.

I try to lift my fingers to rummage

Through the ‘paradise’ that sleeps above me,

to wake some sort of potion, for the inner demon

but it only




So I can’t.

Signed Arouge




You’re out


            you lost it when you found it,

You revived it when you buried it,

You are out.

You gave in the minute you declared it,

You planted it when you kicked it over,

You gave in when you stood up,

You’re out.

You are out.

Signed Arouge



Your words fail to evoke any emotion.

Your dark camouflaged skin wriggles

With the snakes,

              Hissing and slithering over my brain,

           But, you mean nothing.

Signed Arouge  

Tis is Life…

I dread that I may be human. 

Just the slightest chance of it incites these bumps of terror through my skin. The notorious Human that breeds hate, that falls for temptations, misguided into sin and the one that always makes mistakes. 

I feel like a sinning machine. A lost traveller in pursuit of something. It could actually be nothing but that is what we are afraid of. This is the mortal conundrum. It is the path that one takes to explore the richer existential questions that are posed by fancy philosophers. These philosophers, like doctors, prescribe me drugs that have alluring titles such as ‘No Divinity’ or ‘Stop being a hallucinating Religious Fiend!’. But, I’ve come to realise that, perhaps, I feel this way because it may be a symbol of a higher power. I am not happy to conduct my life the way it is, and I am not happy that one must stop believing in a supreme being due to others’ actions and end up being ashamed to believe in the Divine. I believe in the way of living that people are in fear of looking at or up at. 

And that’s when I realise, I am human, I do sin because it reflects the meaning of life.

Life is a test. The lost meaning of life that once stood for the battle between good versus bad. 

And the last question it poses is how many ‘good’ people out there would lend a helping hand to one in need of it?

Signed Arouge