My heart throbs the same way
When I touch you,
It’s been many years
Since I found you,
The ancientness of this love
Doesn’t change a thing,
Because there are no conditions
When it’s matter of you…
What is this tremor
I feel inside me,
An intuition of the time
To shine from within,
Brand new life I see
Through the wisdom
Of my ancient spirit…
Sunny summer day,
Playing kids outside,
She always wish
To belong to other side.
Today one reason
Tomorrow another one,
It’s not alright to go outside.
Days passed and years went
Now she has even stopped protesting.
It’s a strange place
What is present day where
She is a loner who doesn’t belong anywhere.
She tried her best to fit in for long
But since a while she agree with it,
That maybe she will always be an unfit puzzle piece…
The innocents dying by drinking the black rain,
The rain that is poisonous but the naives are clueless,
So they drink it to soothe the burning heat,
That is making their skin wilt away.
How can this be a cheerful event?
But the victory is celebrated on the other side of the world.
The explosion of the atom was earth shattering,
That it left it’s mark on the future generations to come.
How can this catastrophe be anyone’s celebration?
How can this disaster be anyone’s new beginning?
This can only mean the last days of humanity.
Soul bonds are hard to erase,
The social norms can’t even break.
Not even the stifling of the bond bearers.
When it’s meant to be
No one can change the course,
No one can go against the force.
It’s a beautiful mystery how souls are connected,
To overcome the resistance of the world, the society, the ego.
To share the love that is not theirs, not mine, not yours but of universe itself…
The pills that you take to make yourself well,
Are they really a cure or a new bane?
I take one and I get effects that are conveniently ” side “.
I take two and I get dependent on it,
Still it doesn’t take away the real problem.
The doc say why not try three!
Is it the real cure for years of suffering?
Is it real antidote for life long illness?
The doc sees me for a min or two and announces that I am hysterical,
But who would not be hysterical if they are dying inside,
Who would not be hysterical if they are being torn apart each and every moment of the day.
Is the pill a remedy for an age old curse?
If it was the real medicine then life would have had an antidote too…
The young heart knows not much,
It follows the attention.
It cannot distinguish good from bad.
It just follows the path of impulses,
The young heart persevere,
It persevere even if it hurts,
It can’t let go, it can’t let it flow.
The young heart is pure and naive,
And it always fall for the trickster.
It is the irony of love
As it takes you down before it takes you high.
Young heart learns soon,
Young heart understands soon,
That most of the times you have to choose to love what is good for you…