We are making a living, Where humanity hardly exists; Where no love resides; Where compassion has died; Where beauty is deprived; Where only happiness is solipsism; And only sadness is breakup. In this living, The affluent is callous; The penurious is gleeful. This ironical life, Sentiments have withered; Passion has perished; Glory has blemished. How unfortunate it is, How petrified humans have become. The sorrows are becoming meaningless, The jubilation is diminishing, The bucks are the new trend, And, the crux is greed. Hence, as we’ll evacuate, & come to light with dear divine, We shall realise, While making a living, Perhaps, we forgot to make a life!
When the night was full of terrors, As a child what you had encountered in your sleep with the demons or devils, Or the beautifully adorned prince or princesses, The superheroes and the fantasies and yet some more- “Dreams” ,
Pull out the pellets from my chest, I had fallen in a brutal crackdown. A black moon was taking revenge. You were staring straight in the eyes of death. The biker, has lost the charisma. The apples were never so
Spurred the kerosene to burn the logistics. I had moved on untrodden snow of tanned gifts. There was no tomorrow for me, living from moment to moment. The warships had moved into positions. Adoring the monotheisn, I still loved many
Now you call this living ? But what is living without loving ? And what is love but a verb ? Nothing more than a misconstrued word, Taken out of context by the world. We all strive for happiness . And society tells us