Wednesday, April 20, 2005


He stared into the mirror.


He hated that sight. Of himself. Of the man he has become.

The things he was forced to do. Not so much as forced. But rather out of uncontrolled chain of events. It spiralled out of control.

A monster.

An angry violent monster. The violence of emotions and cunning guile. He remembered the purity of it all. And the rage ignited in the backdrop of a dark moonless night.


Yes, he was the master. The master of games. He played God. And they were mere puppets in his private theatre.

Theatre of dreams.

Dreams gone bad. Nightmares abound. He haunts them with promises he could not keep. Lies. All damned lies. Tantalising lies of hope, with intent of betrayal.

The power.

He had much power. Love was a fair game. He did not believe in love. Love is for the weak, he said.

And now look at him. He looked. He touched the reflection on the broken mirror. What have I become, the man asked.

There were no answers.


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