<body> Psychomantium of the mind; To see, to write.
Beyond the mirror, beyond Oceanus

lies the ever elusive yet inevitable realm of Elysium. Attainable before the passing, yet only via the reflections of our inner thoughts. For only within can we find true redemption or true death. In the twilight hours before our time, we would thus pen and construct, a psychomantium of regret and forlorn hope, the leavings of many a consciousness.

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         Brushes- 1| 2

    Sunday, April 22, 2007


    Prognosticate

    Enigmatic you,
    Unknowing me.
    Thus was the clue
    You had in your eyes
    When glances last met.
    Shimmer of hope? No
    Shimmer of longing.
    Of knowing--
    Foresight.
    You told me not
    Not only
    To worry me not
    But of a conviction
    A belief
    That keeps mortality at bay.
    Ah, how irregular
    Is the shape of life.
    Words incomplete?
    Or words concealed?
    Strident in your pace
    You fought, and won
    Perhaps only in your mind--
    Yet
    In mine too
    I am happily with you
    Now
    Perhaps only in my dreams--
    Yet
    Perhaps--
    In yours too.

    victor-y
    I first wrote this when my grandfather passed away earlier in February this year. I last saw him in December last year. As he was suffering from terminal lung cancer, I had this premonition that I was not to see him again. Indeed, unfortunately, that was the case.

    Quoting a poem from Phillip Larkin,

    Next morning I got up and he did not.
    The first day after a death, the new absence
    Is always the same;

    (The subject matter was about a hedgehog. Replaced 'it' with 'he')
    haa.

    -Schmier

    beauty is as beauty does; we write what we think