Paranoia strikes in the hearts of everyone. We put it all on the line simply because we can. The past is bittersweet and the future seems so terribly grim. The light that’s inside us, has gone so desperately dim. So what do we do? We waste and kill ourselves, with our eyes fixed on the moon, and all we can think about is our impending doom so let’s go down together, down that rabbit hole, into the world of insanity, and stop worrying about your decaying vanity.
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From The Afterglow
Verses, Tales, Thoughts
by Varsha Panikar
It’s the things that we never say that truly get in the way. Those unspoken truths could serve as tiny proofs that someone’s existence had meaning and that the light they radiate is still glowing somewhere in our hearts. However, our lips stay locked in a tight seal, so they'll never know how we truly feel. And so, days go by, and nights are never-ending. We continue to rely on our broken pieces to help our hearts from mending, looking at pictures tainted with all the actions and memories—memories that tend to lie.
Yet, we keep trying to find truth in all that is unsaid. Fragmented reflections display confusion inside the head, searching deep for clarity in all that’s dead and unheard. Desperate to draw conclusions that set the soul free from relentless dread because words unsaid reveal a lot, and they can lie. We create what we need to in order to get by. But what happens when life takes a turn for the worse and quickly goes? Suddenly, everything can change to what you feared and never imagined you’d have to know.
We beat ourselves up, begging for that one little moment to say, “I love you”, "I miss you", "I'm sorry", one last time, to make sure they know it. Yet, when that moment stares us right in our faces, we stay silent once again, and nothing ever changes the way we feel. So how do you ever fix a heart that has been broken from the crushing weight of words that were never spoken? Because words can cut deep and leave scars for life, unlike the chance of recovery from the damage of a knife. They can lift a heavy heart or brighten a dark day. They can heal and inspire with the meaning they convey.
There’s power in words and in silence. Both tend to torture when they leave their mark inside us. And still, it’s easy to forget that words we never hear or say are sometimes truly the ones that get in the way.
A gothic and mystical graphic novel about the journey of a young girl into a magical and ancient forest, inspired by fables, folklore, fairy-tales, myths, and dreams. Seeking writers, graphic designers and visual artists to collaborate on the book. An ongoing poetry series. Here is a preview.
She goes into the forest
forest of dread and sorrow
sorrow all around
around her animals hurry
hurry in all directions
directions that are blocked
blocked with vines and branches
branches sticking out out of many trees trees that are endlessly tall
tall yet, rising higher
higher till the sky is gone
gone from my view view that is closing
closing the deeper she goes
she goes into the forest
Forest, thy shadow thy door where in sorrow sadly rot
amongst the things we know no more
with winds of silent thought
The trees alone were exquisite they tangled so divine sadly though, she could barely fit when she tried to squeeze through the vines
She could hear the silent shrieks of fear, deep within the forest.
Nowhere to go but deep within her forest
curled up in a deep dark tree
hidden within the strangling branches
she hides
from the monster
afraid,
shaking
trembling with fear!
the encroaching noises are not around her they are inside of her no longer contained
burning within her twisted forest
her dark wicked twisted forest
The trees replied, “night will be the hour the forest will speak.
The ground did warn us “the underworld howls through the cracks of earth” they said
She continues to run her brown tangled hair flies as she sprints as she pushes through the pain that it takes to run away to safety
she roams through the forest of darkness
where evil does lie step after step
memories of this place
hover atop my mind
where young souls have died
my young soul has cried
She sits by the path of crossroads
with her head in her hand eyes half closed she can feel It look right through her
in despair and pain
she’d like to be left alone
right now
She notices the trees creek as they released their brown leaves to the wind.
a petal drift through the air into her tear soaked hand and screams,
"Forget me not!”
It felt like dreams shattering
like glass on the forest floor
she felt a presence the wind fell silent and an ominous air filled this place
As she was forced to depart
she nearly distinguished
from the shadowy depths
a smile
The shadows.... she doesn’t let them close
for the fear they might break her but still they collect her
and to the heartbreak take her
They found her unconscious
severely wounded a few broken ribs she was rapidly bleeding out
when they rescued her
The shadows
they embrace her they don’t surround her
deep in the forest
right where they found her
Moving on the battlefield the shadows they stand beside her Fighting so they can tame the madness inside her
But a last whisper met her ears
“i am so sorry, my dear you must awaken.” she opens her eyes a blink from oblivion pulling the breath from her lungs
thinks “that emptiness beyond the facade is this what awaits me?”
She runs up the empty foothills
faster than sound like she’s left her body
soul speeding wind howling she runs lugging her stripped wing
of its clouded feathers
Her pain is like a comfort
a blanket over her skin
So she wandered deeper into the forest
to the big rocky mountain.
eventually she came to rest by the cascading fountain. in it’s clear and crystal waters
she saw an angel looking back at her. with a rainbow row of flowers
placed within her silver hair.
it glimmered like the moon on a starless night.
but as she turned around
the angel was gone she was nowhere to be found
somewhere.... trees were falling down but they never made a sound
Peering at her own
young corpse as it rots besides
these trees these sneaky bumble bees view the evil that’s done out there
where some never make it out
that wretched place
her footsteps get faster
pounding the floor like plaster
though she hardly remember
why she came here at all
maybe to just mourn for her life’s so torn apart
her sweet loving self did die and still
somehow she sees light
so glorious so bright!
Fear of the sorrowful forest
finally overthrown she felt a presence
profound
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