Without values life may whop And you cannot even yawp As the destiny may strop A valueless person nonstop. If your values from life lop It is zilch and make you fop – Fop – a man with concern atop For dress than character prop. Without values we may drop; Cannot stand or walk; sit or hop. So respect values that clearly mop All bad, illicit or forbidden crop.
My innocent little sister In your eyes You see me as a guardian Shining bright with a halo over my head Wings as pure as jade A mountain that doesn’t move Even when the earth shakes When the thunder strikes
I was scrolling through a few of the #MeToo posts on my timeline, when, I thought I’d bring a few questions clawing my mind, to the society’s attention – How could you throw the unassuming girl child to the ants,
The shrine of Madonna stood tall, The high king’s rapier fell down, not anymore was he the young prince, for he was devoid of all feelings. The shrine of Madonna stood strong, The high king’s blood washed the ivory pedestal,
A misbelief breaks into rags. Still I dream of some gods on black pages piecing together the words of light. The rains come in the cage of tears, voicelessly. Striated muscles of splintered faith go to cramps birthing the avatar