Harbinger of change, who was sought,
Our country now shies away from changes brought.
The media is paid heavily to antogonize you.
The political and religious fear what is true.
We asked for change, expecting none.
We cry like injured dogs when work gets done.
You alone must hold up a volatile fort.
India wants its ship to stay at the port.
Ones who’ve seen not Godhra, are its experts.
Who mock Swachch Barath, once wore Kadhi shirts.
They pray in temples, but ignore god’s response.
But you don’t intend India to fade with chance.
You are conscious and oneness personified.
Freedom fighters perhaps never truly died.
I ask you to persevere, don’t let India return
to our political plunderers, lest we forever burn.
I perceive you not as a political man.
Just as a being who does what he truly can.
I have a secret, I’ll take it to my grave.
All the hardship to burry it I must brave.
I have a secret, Victoria has one or two.
We won’t tell you what it is, believe me you.
I have a secret, at least one for now.
To keep it safe, reveal it not, you must allow.
I know my secret, FBI may not.
Tolkien had many, which other gods forgot.
I have a secret, you will never know.
This is how I often kill, silent and slow.
I wish I was a soldier, not that I love war.
I’d rather know what it’s like for legs to travel far.
To know what it’s like to miss my family.
Worlds of hunger and pain, is the least I’d see.
A soldier would not kill the innocent.
But it’s injustice he’d surely prevent.
His family are all citizens; his mother his land.
Truth of war and bloodshed I’d understand.
Peace was never free for it costs soldiers too.
Hardly sleep but starve, at borders for me and you.
It’s easy to say that each is a stoic soul.
They’ve all the love and fear, but to use as coal.
No I’m not a soldier, my age and physique smirk.
And all my discipline allows me is writing this, my perk.
Time hasn’t stopped, it never passed.
That it never existed, no one has grasped.
The past, present, and future are ‘now’.
We’d live if we choose; we could just allow.
I haven’t died yet, but I wasn’t even born.
The crown of conquest has many a thorn.
We struggle with time, we struggle with life.
We’re slaying dragons with a pocket knife.
Why slay dragons and why struggle so much?
Time is an illusion with no human touch.
Why fight life while we could just be?
Dragons are wiser with such magic, to me.
They always were and forever just will.
They are timeless; life is their thrill.
I hail from the realm of chaos.
I was a spirit naturally free.
There are no rules or by-laws.
I thrived in such anarchy.
Chaos is the natural state.
Live and let the others too.
Nothing pushed on to your plate.
No suppression of what is true.
I visited this realm of control.
Nothing is true over here.
Views on ends of the pole
suppress the truth into fear.
Righteousness was invented.
To be right, the rest are wronged.
Control saw creativity prevented.
For freedom again we longed.
One day, I just walked away.
An avalanche set in again.
It matters not what they say.
Freedom dances upon my pen.
As beings we’re truly infinite,
though we often choose not to be.
A system of what’s wrong and right
is just polarity; can’t we see?
What if it’s all just our perspective?
What if we could create by choice?
The system has another objective:
on autopilot we’d forget our voice.
We created this just to play small.
The system has taken over now.
Religion, education, marriage, and all
control our very lives somehow.
We’re brainwashed from birth:
parenting makes us judge choice.
Education isn’t down to earth.
We’re told ‘how to’ use our voice.
Religion is but dichotomy:
It’ll first say that you’re wrong.
Marriage hardly sets us free.
We’d sing each other the same song.
Employment provides us salary:
It’s just a bribe to stall your dreams.
And the media fills up with misery
to entertain us with our own screams.
It’s not just a theory when you actually look around your lives.
We created the system too
and we now muffle our own sighs.
Please do know this: it’s not real.
Perspective alone makes reality.
Time is an illusion quite surreal.
The past and future is now, you see.
Let go of the need to be right.
The system feeds on dichotomy!
What if we go by what’s light?
We wouldn’t ‘believe’ but receive!