Blood Turns Black

    By

      Simran Malik

Daastan Publishing 2022

First Published in Pakistan by Daastan PVT LTD

House # A-41, Madni Street, Lala Rukh, Wah Cantt, Punjab 47040

www.daastan.com

www.meraqissa.com

Text copyrights © Simran Malik

Book Design copyright ©

Edited and Formatted by: Daman Khalid

The moral rights of the writer, illustrator and editor have been asserted.

All rights reserved

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-969-696-753-8

Dedicated to my mother: Rabia

Everyone defines blood in a divergent way,

And that definition keeps on changing whenever the pattern of life cracks.

But when there is no room for change anymore left,

Blood can only turn Black

Sometimes you feel,

You feel enough

Even when it seems nothing much.

Sometimes you feel,

You feel loads

Even when you must more.

Sometimes you think you feel like it,

Maybe you do,

Maybe you just want to,

Maybe your hearts tell you to and the brains tell you no

So, shall they stay in woe.

And exactly, like that, nothing seems true

And exactly, like that, nothing seems true

Just from the perspective it comes through.

Now you may wonder

Why brains and hearts

Not single but many people, time and places make them up

Nevertheless, it’s just the soul that steals the thunder

Every word says the same stutter

Cause never, can we assure of what we truly ponder

Why do people always take ‘risk’

while being on the verge of falling off the cliff?

No decision made on a deathbed is a risk, rather an opportunity

When the leaves crumble like ash

When ash mixes with the fog

When fog stays stagnant and the eulogy never does,

Do you feel the memories fading too?

For all my reminiscences are made up of you,

And you, my dear, are what for the pain was due

Do you ever feel the void of non-existence too?

When even for a heartbeat the sorrow washes over you?

As it was all that was left of me

And I rush back to it even it tried to flee,

I never ever let it free

Let me be free of the sorrow?

Or let the sorrow be free of me?

When a newborn smiles at the sight of you there,

When the angel of death smirks as it stares,

Or when the pretense of one of us drowning in pain appears

Isn’t it all the same for the one with nothing but despair?

One gives them satisfaction,

One gives them hope,

And one embeds the feeling of gratitude that the same

satisfaction is what others too are devoid of.

And if you penetrate my soul to pluck the anguish out,

The shattered pieces will leave your hand wounded in blood

Let alone the dagger wielding and of yours, gash me through your way out

This sentiment tries to linger concealed

In disguise yet still stays

Through all those days, when my soul healed

Never eradicated the possibility of vulnerability I could feel,

At any given moment without alert

No immune to hurt, I have achieved.

Today I left the belief I withstood

That In depth you will never be secured,

Letting my guard down, I understood

The only way to avoid despair is to expose yourself to it

Gathering courage not to quit

Because later it will be hard to bear.

Maybe that’s the joy of affection

Maybe that’s the ploy of it.

But this time I am all in,

Knowing the risk I dared,

All these feelings within but you were unaware.

Isn’t constant pain such a relief?

For happiness comes with great expectations

Here is a belief,

Every setback crushes my content and drowns it deep,

Until serotonin finds a way to creep

But wouldn’t it be such a relief, if the glum never turned to glee?

Extreme confinement makes us numb.

It’s not that we do not want to fight

but we just let it burn

Knowing any effort will make

 the hold over us more firm

Just like a bird cramped between the fists

never tries to run, for it know it will be the end,

Outer forces are just oblivious to the intensity our soul is able to stand,

 So, we just take it all in, and when we face the world, all we can do is pretend

What limits us is what we already know,

Very few breaks that bubble of knowledge and look past the know-it-all show,

All of us live as a distinct community

where people possess a certain mental approach,

You can change your entire way of thinking when societal values and beliefs are not imposed.

Nothing can ever kill you that did not make you feel alive first,

For when something holds the power to make you fly,

You are vulnerable enough for it to bleed you dry.

You just don’t have the control over the thirst,

You’ve to let it kill you to be reborn without the curse

Maybe that’s why, people don’t leave until they fully die.

It’s been here for a while.

The agony is gone,

The dagger inside me has made itself at home,

I will just keep on bleeding till I go wild,

I began to pull it out and more pain drawn,

Aware if I bring it out, the misery will exceed to what I now groan,

Doesn’t matter, I always settle for the short-term fawn,

Like I always try to let you go, but still hold on…

I know I am bewildered

Standing with sheer confoundment

A twinge of unease, I feel, in every nerve with warm blood cascading through

I know the existence of the depths of despair