I swear by the book..!

( copyrights reserved  to very talented friend of mine +khadija Amjad and Paras Ali/2016)

I wriggled my finger-tips over its apparently hard forehead and mildly sniffed in its balmy fragrance to subdue each droplet of myself in its commandingly authoritative aura. It asked: “Would You Bear me like an uncut Kundun in your Soul? Would you mind deluge yourself in my reflection? Answering none of the questions I gave a leathery blow of my boggling lashes to its subtle cheeks and planted a quick kiss to brush away its anguish and turmoil. I switched off the hurricane lanterns and slammed shut all the torches of the candles to let it know how hardly I felt its displeasure. I was cocksure I have vowed without words and bricked its trust on me. Flooded with ethereal radiance and intoxicated in shimmering self-assurance, I mapped the euphoria of last night orgasm inside my Kohl. I walked an astute gait leaving behind prudent foot prints as I was carrying with in me a sturdy promise towards it; the promise of being different from rest of the world
Does life ever give you an opportunity to prove oneself? I assume yes....
I progressed down a lane behind the thickets of a bamboo tree and found the whiskers of the grass thatched with tinges of fresh human blood and the pages of the area fully stencilled with acidic scent of screeching tears of some bleating human. I rushed towards the tree and saw he has been hanged topsy-turvy like a clipped owl over the trunk. His wounds split tsunami of blood and his eyes narrated the story of butchery, inviting clan of mosquitoes, centipedes, beetles, fireflies, spiders and ants. Like a gutless fraidy-cat having a weak chicken's heart, I escaped. I could sense he was still alive even then I disappeared.
I a commoner cannot deny that during uncountable foray into hallucinating visions created by amalgamation of words, ideas, notions into a heady mix, one just cannot come to deny that for a moment howsoever fleeting, one in completely consumed by an insatiable urge to step into the shoes of the character we associate ourselves with, which surreptitiously hold us captive. In our solitary moments of unceasing contemplations, we swear to stand out and be different. But hardened is the incorrigible soul, and our resolve has feet of clay, crumbling and perishable! Ideas germinating in the crucible of mind, stirred into activity, die a sudden abominable death, when faced with situation. Our innards bustling with a crescending clamour for self-change bites dust and the fortress of changelessness is never breached, quelling the Resurrection