Souls of Slavery...

They will come one day..

I wish it’s not today,

Like warriors with arms and weapons,

To steal our souls to sell it to the demons,

Our bodies will look at the diminishing light,

Too numb, too helpless to defend and to fight,

It was there some moments ago in our hearts,

They pricked it away and left the hollow darts,

Now the world is as silent as it can be,

There is no sky to flee…

And I wake up from a fake nap..

It reminds me about the evil trap..

That the warriors had come long ago…

We are still not fighting for our souls..!!

Life...

Nothing seems meaningful,

yet every element indicates something;

chaos everywhere,

though forms a melody;

words want to speak,

but there’s much to listen;

the look is numb,

but a rumble inside;

reality is fake,

perspectives dilate,

life’s a trance – trance is life…

jis mitte se ubhar raha hu,

Us mitte ke ghav he saare,

Kuch mujh par kuch tum par bhi.

Is mitti ke bol he saare,

Rang alag he jab chitte udte he,

Kuch tum par kuch mujh par bhi.

Jo mitti ke liye hue shahid,

Is mitti me hi ghul gaye saare,

Par bojh he saara…

Kuch mujh par kuch tum par bhi.

isi mitti se ghar banaye unhone,

ghar tode bhi isi mitti se,

pathar jab feke jinhone…

kuch tum par kuch mujh par bhi.

kab tak sahenge is mitti ka jakham,

agar isi me dabke mar jana he,

uchalo is mitti ko un aankho ki taraf,

jo fekte he gole hamare hi mitti ke..

kuch tum par kuch mujh par bhi.

is mitti me he who takad,

is mitti se hi hum bane he,

tufan yu banao is mitti ka,

fakr ho isi mitti ko…

kuch mujh par kuch tum par bhi.