The Gory Bloodbath

The heavenly skies rent an unearthly scream
Splattering every cleft with a bloody dream
Shrouding all conceivable with colossal chaos
The foul putrid breath of belligerent trios

Peeped not in there a shred of light
Reconnoitering the details of a dreadful night
The dooms day mocked a grin disdainful
At the battle field reeking in pain awful

They sharpened their weapons with naked rue
And blinded their petty site with a smoky glue
In a quagmire weird shaded like dark smite
They lent their force to an enemy knight

At a seldom moment hidden deep in time
The eyelids dared their profane crime
Athwart a thousand wails in chaotic inane
It held down the droop in victorious pain

And so lay dumb an exiled vision,
With a smattered reason licking treason,
Stripped of any strength on a trudge steep
The sobs caressed its decorum weep

Then in this cult of anarchy they thrived
With plunder and loot and virtue deprived
They bred a foe with an innocent feign
And kept a vigil of the servitude’s bane

Everything lay obscure, barren and coarse
Planned to perfection by a vehement force
No clue left bare, or a subtle mystic surge
None to expose the yonder music urge

A blind God ruled a chaos monstrous
Drew the lines of a fortune preposterous
In the cruel kingdom of a vicious spiral
A giant deluge fueled a traitor's trial

It bled incessantly the confidence of sap
As the giant sketched its recondite map
It conjured up masks of a million illusions
That the inane mocked as trivial delusions

The monarch now rocked on a high throne
And laborers low appeared even more prone
They paid respects to the hierophant mysterious
Or so they thought in their temerity curious

The convolutions had ripened over time
As the creepers curled a nescience vine
Not a glimpse there now of time’s role
And no sharp tradition left to bare a hole

The pantomime meandered to a parody retreat
And tunes of the rhapsody spit fumes of defeat
The narrow charm hushed the opera’s tune
As the music crawled under a pathetic dune

No light there shone with any luminescence
No shadow cast in that perilous pretence
No sigh was passed which projected right
And no battles were fought by noble knight.

Wafted a repugnant smell of a timorous dove
As bled the weird dichotomy of truth and love
Valor lay trembling on its bed of cold ice
As birds of prey swiftly swooped like vice

The battlefield reeked at this shudder of death
And the sky struggled relentlessly for breath
In vain it covered its ears of the deep tacit
Checking its dark brown tears of deceit

The azure firmaments quaked in dense fear
And could not hold back the crimson spear
As the shadowy metal darted a lethal lunge
It mucked the calm with a deadly plunge

Very dimly the life beat throbbed and sang
Rolled within itself some celestial pang
A soft sacrosanct on the verge of extinction
Wove the gossamer fabric of retribution

A cold confusion dared out of its nest
With a secret prowl unheeding any rest
In a smothered sense it felt for its breed
And slowly sent out its stamp and creed

Hushed was the voice that once dare spoke
Crumbled, the leaves of the titan oak
Darkness heralded the arrival of nescience
As thought after thought clouded the prescience

Habit mulled its convolutions within revision
And confused itself to be incapable of decision
In the fury of the thoughts it had fallen a prey
And it chose to linger in the vestibules grey

The slumbered jackal now howled in the gale
Its wail pathetic made the moon shiver and pale
Rippled across like some irrevocable curse
The dark hewn sparrow lay on a platter terse

The blood now ran into a crevasse deep
Perplexed it paused at every angel asleep
A tear in its eye and melancholy for hope
In vain it spread its arms at the pope

The forests ablaze mixed frost and fume
The fire raged in every corner of gloom
A sordid dull throb of a shadow slain
Fuelled the genesis of emotion and pain

The dark mask rose from a blurred creed
With a graceful swing it mount the steed
Trampling berserk its hooves of lament
Heathens of glory cloaked a pale garment

A meek testimony to a downfall blazing grim
There were none to see the temerity of the dim
A cognizant apathy to a growing sense sublime
They huddled together in a cruel cave of lime

A resplendent hologram projected its might
Coveted by the residents of the kingdom of sight
Lay hapless in dismay in a deluded world of rust
And illusions faded into a blank board of raw dust

The thunderous blaze licked some glory virtual
And seemed to burn at some hazy ritual
As the sound of the bells chimed dull and low
Meandered the tunes into a monotonous glow

The soft petals buried their eyelids bereft
Gently they wafted under an unknown cleft
Hinged on the precipice shaded and revived
The dark remnants of the giant deluge survived

Pangs of the tears of the pathetic gain
Etched their grooves in silent pain
Some fossils crumpled lay on the ground barren
And thirsty snails slithered on the earthly saran

Aghast the mask tried their desperate attempt
Shrouded under some somber shadow of repent
The leaves raised themselves at the gentle rustle
Then with a poignant ease let themselves muffle

No pondering presence here of some woebegone word
No shining gleam of an Arthur’s sword
No mention here of the celestial glory
No thought here to drink of the Grail Holy

The silent whispers of the moon had faded
And a dull servitude chanted queerly degraded
With a low veil of trembling fear and disease
They awaited the tumult with ambivalent unease

Introduction

The_Crescendo is (a poem) an attempt to capture the nature of human soul and its journey in the infinite. The intellectual extrapolations of some theories of the soul will take a long time to experience to write about .It at times is going to be too complex. Nevertheless in the analysis of the nature of the soul, some definite milestones are defined that it goes through and this is an attempt to define that.
This is not a very smooth process and at times some phrases have been reworked a number of times. The problem is sometimes when an individual gets into a mood and begins to understand the complexity of some of these recondite domains it becomes difficult to write it down. Then again once written, because the priorities of the thought process are so different the “literary” value of the verse could get compromised. But always the thought process has a definite high priority than its poetic representations.
Although, a typical journey of any kind will have a beginning, follow its course and then culminate, ‘The Crescendo’ follows a slightly different approach. In that, the first chapter is kind of displaying the tremendous tumult that exists in mind and soul and then it flash’s back to the beginning of the journey. There is one challenge however which this poem will always have and that is the degree to which language can reach and the depth to which emotions can sway can never be in synch.
Nevertheless, ‘The Crescendo’ has helped me many times when I go over it again and again and find new meaning into it. It is possible some other folks might also find it interesting and supporting.