Darkness

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Years have passed,
Months gone by,
Days struggled through,
Since the time
I’ve planted the seed,
The seed of darkness
Inside of me.

A life spent killing,
Torturing, assaulting,
Doing the dark deeds
Of a devil.

An age gone by,
And I’m yet to find myself,
Find where I stand
Since the time I’ve started walking.

Holding my drink in my hand,
Staring at the horizon.
Looking back at all the dark
Deeds I had committed,
At all the darkness preceding me,
Peering into the abyss of
Darkness in my heart.

And after all this when
Years have passed,
Months gone by,
Days struggled through,
It all boils down to it,
And I ask myself,
Is this why I like Dark Coffee.


Calling all coffee fanatics out there! XD I love this piece a lot. It’s anti-climatic, was fun to write and the expression on people’s faces after the ending where they show visible disgust and the ambition to try and take my life, makes my day 🙂 !Darkness.jpg

 

 

Tonight

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The first story i ever wrote! Wrote this in July 2010 so its a bit kiddish. As far as i remember, this idea was inspired by some weird movie i watched at that time.

It was a dark and lonely night, right here in New York City. It was a dark winter night, however, as there always is one, to add to the misery of the people and the darkness, New York City faced a power cut, a complete blackout. No light to be seen for miles. Save for all the people texting or facbooking with their cell phones.
Somehow, this sort of a creepy environment has always given rise to a masked murderer or a supernatural force, whacky ghost to come out and kill people. And as usual, someone takes the challenge and manages to find a way to defeat the villain and save the town. By the morning. By which the power cut is gone. “Phoosh”, gone. I always feel there is a connection.
However, this time was different. This time, the mysterious attacks had already started. And the special forces said it was a supernatural force with the evidence provided. And like always, I trust them to be wrong.
This was going to be a lucky night for the murderer. A dark city, thousands of lives standing helplessly and a wild goose chase starting for the murderer. However, the night was lucky not the murderer or the people hunting him or the murderers to be targets.
Will the killer be caught? Will he strike again? When will we switch on our computers again?
This was going to be an eventful night, filled with mystery, chills and thrills for everyone involved in it.

Untitled Story-1

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Yet another untitled story. Again, i was unable to conjure up a title suitable. You’re welcome to give it a name if you wish.

The room was poorly lit. There was a bed in the centre, resting upon it a mysterious figure with a drip connected to his wrist. A pair of slippers rested beside the bed. The paint on the walls was coming off, the room itself in a ruined condition. The windows were hitting furiously against the wall, but the door beside was bolted.
As the windows started coming to rest, the light began to flicker, and a ghastly silence filled the room.
The mysterious figure opened his eyes, his vision catching a glimpse of the tattered wall. Slowly, but steadily, with pain, he sat up on the bed. Slowly removing the drip, he moved his legs to the ground, slipping into the comfortable slippers. He coughed twice before closing the windows.
His face implied he was in his late twenties; his hair was long, shabby and overdue for a cut. Yet somehow, his beard had disappeared. His eyes, blue in colour, observed the area around him. His build was not too bulky, didn’t seem as though he could hold his own in a prolonged fight.
He quietly moved towards the door, with pain, opened it. He pulled the door and found a coat with a note inside, labeled ‘FTF’. He quickly put on the coat and peered outside into the infinite in front of him. Dark, no light as far as his vision could see, only a cold air to provide him no comfort.
He stepped outside and moved to the source of the cold blowing wind. The sound of footsteps grew, and then suddenly came to a halt, when a thump was heard. He had hit a wall.
He quickly pressured his aching body and moved 180 degrees to find his little illuminated safe house, but his eyes deceived him. There was no light, stable or flickering. Surrounded by walls on three sides, he moved forward. In hand a note saying ‘FTF’, a coat that felt somewhat funny, and slippers which felt comfortable.

Darkness

Standard

Years have passed,
Months gone by,
Days struggled through,
Since the time
I’ve planted the seed,
The seed of darkness
Inside of me.

A life spent killing,
Torturing, assaulting,
Doing the dark deeds
Of a devil.

An age gone by,
And I’m yet to find myself,
Find where I stand
Since the time I’ve started walking.

Holding my drink in my hand,
Staring at the horizon.
Looking back at all the dark
Deeds I had committed,
At all the darkness preceding me,
Peering into the abyss of
Darkness in my heart.

And after all this when
Years have passed,
Months gone by,
Days struggled through,
It all boils down to it,
And I ask myself,
Is this why I like Dark Coffee.