The Convicted Judge

It's been so long, thanks to the paucity of time these days(read months/years)...!! Anyways, this is a new one; Alternate stanzas represent the two alternate egos:

The gavel thumps again, trying to probe an ache in my heart,
As I stand today in public, pent up into myself,
Deploring not foreseeing, this end from the very start,
Wondering whether the means of it, really stand justified.

The convict stands prosaic and spent,
Thankfully not with an act of mercy, hoping to be petitioned in vain,
He still looks younger than the usual us, a courtesy his so called crimes may have lent,
A crime which I remember again, today everyone condemns, but no one commits.

I go back into memories, those days of honesty and gloom,
Everyone was like me, unlike today, when I'm alone,
A weather true, without pretense, sans hypocrisy loomed,
Alas, the fate of mine, now lies with people not human anymore,
But revered morons, who've escaped truth too long to know.

What's he thinking, I ponder as all fall silent?
What has he even done, to be here, in this court of spurious glee,
Except to admit, that he has emotions true,
Like love and hatred, unmasked without any dent?
In a world which has now rendered unlawful,
Ever not smiling, with or without any reason.

I hope no more now, all I have left is my pride,
For I know I am true, and I know the world knows it too,
They're just afraid poor people, afraid to face the hollow, on which their carpets now ride,
Only I am left of the truth, and in a few moments, I won't be there too,
And all that will be left is this peaceful world, with people at war,
With their own selves, unable to come out anymore, unable to howl in pain,
For it is an iniquitous crime now, to feel emotions, and to feel pain.

His innocence is too brilliant, to be condoned by our society of today,
I am a part of the crowd, a puppet with powers, to break free the restraints,
But I choose not to, choosing the easy way, of conforming without thinking, as it hurts,
So I finally happily convict the esoteric ignoramus to death,
And feel the noose I've bestowed to him just now,
Laugh like us all, and tighten around my neck.

On the Otherside

Crying for the first time, today courtesy myself,
I realize this act, whence this scene unveils,
Clandestine and ignoble, marked by maybe spurious remorse,
Outperforms in blackness, all deeds I've authored till date.

There's nothing I can do, except those I don''t want to,
Even as a soul tears before me for me, as I watch helpless,
With tears not mine, tearing the two it sees,
Except staying silent, as unutterables are spoken.

I have failed to value things dear, condoned recognizing a chance of redemption,
Have no other option than to go, seeking amnesia of this dream,
Of pain, of lies, of lust, and heartbreak; and in vain, just gone,
With remnants the worst: a lesson, which wasn't worth learning in hindsight.

Life has taken a new turn, anticipated not in the wildest,
Proving once again, that it has a reason for being this namesake,
And my past flashes before me, which I used to detest,
I so weak wish weakly, to go back there, to better be than the present.

The seeds have now been sown, a monster might as well be growing,
Which gives no shade, bears no fruit, only unluck, as will fall on me,
And my lament does and will continues, unable to grasp the done,
With that faint hope that the bad ending, will present itself after I leave this journey.

Fullmoon

And I ask her sudden, "Why aren't you veiled today?"
She says, "Ask me else, for today I'm honest and true,"
Gloriously above me, calm and sooth,
I wonder in awe, what verity should I want to know,
I ponder and ask, "Then tell me what is love?
The mirage that plagues many, forcing emotions untrue,
Haunting all beings, tell me, I ask you,"
She says, "I know not love, for I've been alone for aeons,"
I get confused, "But I see so many in heavens, shining with you,
Don't they love your beauty, and crave your serenity too?"
Her gaze turns torn, struggling to cry,
I wait, for composure, deploring puppetting the show,
She just smiles wry at last and says,
"I'm nothing but an illusion, lifeless is my real form,
For they who give you life and birth, are who myself I've borrowed from..."