Satin slashed, swell and sway,
Shredded, sweltering on the way.
Mangled bodies burning the furnace,
Minds indulging in mindless play.
The state solves the jigsaw puzzle,
My city back, beautiful and gay.
The idol of god is lit of course,
In the graveyards all night and day.
Let’s paint our faces to hide the tears,
Fears are for weak as they say.
“Mirage” you too, shall chatter and babble,
To hold the terrible silence at bay.
7 comments:
"The idol of god is lit of course,
In the graveyards all night and day.
“Mirage” you too, shall chatter and babble,
To hold the terrible silence at bay."
were the best lines...
in the context of the loss of life in the happy-happening city.
Change the word 'Week' to 'the weak'. Perhaps thats what you meant.
in this graveyard of humanity, we all chatter and babble, paint our faces with shadowy masks, and wish our realities to turn into smoldering dreams...all to keep that inevitable silence at bay
Mampi: thank you mam, and yes u are right, i meant "weak".
Adi: yes, we all try in order to keep this silence at bay, but what we loose is what should have come out, the talk is burried deep down inside our souls which awaken not, not anymore.
beautifully put...
“Mirage” you too, shall chatter and babble,
To hold the terrible silence at bay."
arent we all doing that? Just so that we dont have to hear our own hearts?
Wow! beautiful..very few people can understand this mirage. we need to search for real oasis. i rally like your reflection
Let’s paint our faces to hide the tears,
Fears are for weak as they say.
So true...
GBU
Arti
oh no... you don't babble... your words kindle a fire within our hearts and that's what true poety does... to move... to trigger a thought... a feeling...
namaste!
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