I am a little whirlpool,
in a violent stream
Choked on my own
Moving through the crowd,
forlorn, for desires
I barter my dreams
My eyes ragged,
And so, is my jeans
So I Masquerade in
I am a dark wave
So anachronistic in
These times extreme
Riding light through
space & time.
My soul is splitting
right at the seam.
I have been buzzing with questions
So silent and so Impatient
So loud and so volatile
I have yet much to decide
The paths that set me free
And the holes to the void
After all we will die
Leave immortality behind
And the dreams you dreamt
Time sweeps them aside..
A serious phase is dawning on me
As I am being swept by this torrent
My mind is a little further from me
As I am fighting this current
The ones I love are drifting away
When they are gone,
I’ll lose my way
If not me, then who
Is controlling my fate
Who within me,
Is spreading this hate?
So long I surfed this wave
Now a new path I shall pave
For it is time to collect the bill
For everything I ever gave.
Ruins and ruins
Is all I see,
enemies and friends alike.
Who did we die for ?
The more i watch.
The more i realize.
Petty issues got dragged too far
and here i stand in a WAR
Cries and shrieks
the bombed bridge creaks
Every bullet for every ounce of flesh speaks,
I just hit the target.
didn’t differ enemy or friend i bet
If any how this all could get better
you would not be reading the silence of a martyr.
My old gun is smoked and burning
I lost another brother round that turning.
Heard him fall down that aisle.
Oh,how i just want to tell him
That i could do nothing for him
if i would, the next bullet would be waiting for me.
And all i feel is sorrow and regret
thats how a martyr’s life ends
garland twice a year on the grave.
thats how they salute the brave
how i wish i could tell my mother “I am here”
if only ! then you wouldn’t be reading the silence of a martyr.
Wounds have now stopped to pain,
oh lord ! how much i wish the rain!
to splutter on my lips.
And drain it all away.
the rivers of blood
to the Holy Gange.
the medals still shine
through the drops of tear and rent.
they fake a smile in vain
but i know they are dying in pain.
there is no victory or defeat.
Just red and dead on the street.
right or wrong is left behind
it isn’t about righteousness at all
its only about those who fall
you cant survive a war,
cause even if you get enough far.
it will haunt you all your life.
at the end of the day
battlefield is painted red in colour.
this is why , you are reading the silence of a martyr.
Posted from WordPress for Android by Mayank Mishra (email@example.com)