Ecce Homo

I asked him if he thought I could make it
He grinned under his grayish mustache :

"Anything is possible and nothing is predictable."

The muscles around his eyes as stern as a wall
They pick on my last nerve ,ol'man's ways, so illusive
We walked steadily towards the glass door at the end of the corridor
The sun rays blazing from afar looked infinitely vindictive

There has got to be a sorta metaphor hidden there

This is some serious business, I thought

I don't say "Serious" and "Business" in the same breath
For it turned out to be a great myth; sustaining an existence by proving points
And passing rites
But this queer fellow, with his rimmed hat and a vibe so yellow, he

Looks at me in a strange fashion

Like he's envious of all the time that I luxuriously waste that he could've
Laboriously used to pursue the buried passions of his distant youth
We could've been good friends, geezer, if only you knew
How I talked myself into growing strong, in my fresher days
When I was punished without a hearing, for cutting myself
How I managed to stride alone without a veteran guide in this dogmatic maze
To prove "them" all wrong; when they said that I wallowed in delusions and craze
That for 15 springs I've been too blind
To see that there was no "they", in the end
Except for in the dungeons of my mind
That I woke at last, and was so amazed to find 

That God 
Was there all along

Turns out life was not a dream after all
My flesh and bones; these knuckles and nipples hurt for real
This food I nibbled and people sticking out of the background was not at all odd
Shadows relapsed into shadows, and the colors of their skins
Looked a tad crisp I
Could see their halos in the dark like will-o'the-wisp
And walking around I didn't feel so hollow anymore
Perhaps
All I wanted was to get found in this frightening wake
Being trapped in a livid state where I couldn't tell what was fake
See, you can't get lost in the dark when you've lived there all along

But
But light tingles when one prolongs the tips of their fingers
Reaching through
And did you know ?
The soldier left out from the call for the great siege is deemed weak for the wrong reasons
It's not at all a grave treason to betray bigoted hopes and
Expectations so tripped and devoid of solid reason 
We reached the gates of terminus, and I had to stop my train
The man with the rimmed hat started towards the wild inferno
He said; "The ball is now in your pitch, child", before turning around in haste
I whiled, crestfallen at the sight of the stairs ahead ,they
Looked excruciatingly punishing, yet he delved in one bound
A gesture of immeasurable flout to my trembling feet; I
I didn't dare to budge
And the man with the rimmed hat ,he
Didn't even care to notice that in my limp head
Descending a few steps was such a prodigious feat

What are blocks of brick and grout to the untameable mountains ?

A bold fool with broken bones a few; could live to laugh at a shrewd crone, the rest of her days
She drones in a haze
Is that what Icarus whispered to his faltering wings before he jumped ?

Who cares, if I could fly?

Not many a people, I don't wish to lie

I'd still be alone on the other side if I
Made it through
And does it matter if I could fly higher

Or stoop too low ?
If I marched to my end or walked ever so slow
Where I came from and where I'm going wouldn't amount to much
When it becomes harder to breath, as I soar
Or fall from a steep, to the abyss lurking beneath
Perhaps he used to hide behind the bars of fear back in the rye field
Of his innocent youth

Didn't care to unmask a truth, or stumble to uncouth lands
As long as his heart was bumping blood into his veins, and he could earn his bread
And dance in the rain
"I feel so whole", he must think, though he was repeatedly told that his soul lacked
Pieces he never had
He went searching, thrown upon his shoulder was a heavy sack of doubts
What he sought, he couldn't find looking from above; and the abyss he once gazed at
Has gazed back in flout
Perhaps it was his doubts that weighted him down

Perhaps the point was to never bother missing what was missing

He must've realized, falling to the abyss, hissing

Such a poor lad, Icarus kun
Lo, too much ambition could kill you
But too little ambition could kill you just the same
It has nothing much to do with money or fame
The void you should've been trying to outrun is the one in your heart
It sounds lame, but that is verily the ultimate dilemma
Of being alive, isn't it?
He didn't know, hence he suffered then

But why do I choose to suffer thence?

Why ?

I was engulfed by the flames as I touched the ground

And I realized that I
Have never
For the life of me

Poured my heart into anything whatsoever

Why ?

Why ?

Is life too short to strive ?
Or is it too long to eat and bed like a careless kid
Set back to watch as the beehive grows and thrives ?
Why ?
What difference does it make to have had a purpose 
When you know, in the depths of your heart, still
That the tomb is more dark than is chill ?
That I am verily going to die
That you are going to perish as well
That we are all standing at the sill of doom

Why ?

We are all going to fade, heavy breaths in a winter night
Vagrant shades in a summer noon
Some would live for an instant of mirth and boon
Repeated phrases, a crowd of dazes
Cyclic and boring, yet leave like comely phases of the timeless moon
Some would tread on earth with grace, struggle and go with a sigh at their throe
Some refuse to go gentle, without a haul of thunder
But we would still 

We would all still go under

Our past lives, our truths and lies shall turn to mist and reduce to dust as we

Sink to the bottomless pit of nothingness

I took the bow, rubbed a cube of rosen as hard as i could, while musing
Stardust sprinkled on my lap, light and trivial
Pure, like my dreams
Small, like my hopes
Volatile, like my fears, and mopes
Though the opposite wall was garnished with feats
They all seemed to have no avail when my relaxed E started to wail
Gotta trim my nails, man
There are things that I still don't get
There are peaks that I can't conquer yet
There are folks that I haven't met
There are all the books and horizons, paintings and beats
That I haven't relished with the hungriest buds of my young soul
And that realization shook me to the core; made my heart shudder with ecstasy
It's gotten sore

Don't you understand that it is not the mountain that i see before me
The cause of this unrest that borders on pain and the countless refrains in my lines ?
The pointless endeavors I delve through that cause nothing but bouts of rue

It is but the Ultimate Why 

It is but the reason Icarus wanted to fly; when he could've taken a raft
When he could've died a much nobler death, feeling the waft at his doorstep 
It's the Why 

That I scream in despair 

That is returned by my echo as I plant my claws and thrust my toes
Up the mountain

Down the stairs

Tell me;
Is it true that to live is to suffer ?
And have you truly lived if you haven't shed parts of your own
Your skin and tears, 
Your blood, and your sweat
Your memories
Your fears
And your regrets ?