Synchronised suicide

a strange journal into the unemployment of S.Kandaswamy 
chapter 19: Synchronised suicide                                                                                                                        

Nobody watches the man who is standing at the edge of his life and balanced at the fall cast out at the break of a cliff, hanging above the jaws of certain death. What goes on his mind, and he seems to have valued his life of every aspect and while he dreams about nothing, he stands with his life dangling dangerously from his fingers and he knows his voice is lost to himself.

Talking to himself, he ponders aloud as reassuring the solid stone that never fails to fall. A man still asking questions as he stands at the grim door of his reception to bid farewell. Does he know what he can see, to touch the mother that fed all her children yet she forgot how to breathe with the stillness that the young life of her was born. If only I were to comfort him, to be human in the eyes of the wounded animal but I see that his pity no longer stands in the way.Death that slowly haunts the soul that stands at his door and he waits patiently for the man’s final embrace. He who has the silence that he considered more of the significance that kept him alive, has now become filled with his studied speech.

In his mind and his averted eyes, he is falling and falling with the heaviness of his heart and his spirit stands above him as he imagines the beauty and the grace of the divine welcome of his rewarded foolishness. Would his arms outstretch themselves, if finger by finger lost their last resolution as his knuckles have cracked the marble white of the cold bone.

Visions of himself as a terror stricken child and a puppet of his free will that wanders in the land of refined happiness.

To speak with words that provide him pleasure like the honey that nature has to find to feed its only starving child. It’s sad that a child a cloak of mystery has wrapped its fabric around the suddenly speechless mind and I walk away from him, cursing the blame upon his eyes that watched tragedy and chaos and the shame I find in complete victory as the shadows play around his ankles and now hold his sleep.