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Why do you remember?
Something which is sad?

Why do you think about,
Your evenings with your dad?

Why should the music speak of a song?
Why does it feel so good to belong?

Why do you have faith in God and in ghosts?
Why does your government tend to be your host?

What is the reason for Love and for hate?
Why do you check the clock and it's date?

What is hunger and what is thirst?
What is the physical state of fire and lust?

When should you die and decide to begin?
Does it really matter to be always able within?

Take care and live your life,
The wind is whistling by,

The crashing waves of time and age,
Makes a memory dry.
When your eyes will be drained out
And your mind would be numb
Know that it's not done
Know that it's not done

Let go of the fear
That's cuts when it stays
You are a wonder
And success is not far away.
Give what it takes
This land is mine.
I stay here, started my career.
I have seen wanderers, on this land.
I assumed they were sugar in the milk.

But if there is a brighter tomorrow,
A colour for them and us
A line to be drawn between you and me,
I assume the land would have eyes to see.

This land is mine, you're waiting for yours,
Memories are made of a political force,
The milk should be warm, and the sugar brown,
I assume you can stay in this town.

Thinking of you, I remember things,
Such as religious beliefs and suspicious inklings,
The pattern of your beard, the bleeding men in the park.
I don't know what you think,
I assume you were not sure.

This land is between an object and
An-other tryst
You're the first to comment on its beauty and on its sleeping beast,
My land depends upon the issuance of a game,
Don't worry about the troubling nature of your shame.

This land is mine, linked to many souls,
The source of warmth and of heat,
The fire resembles the state of pride,
I assume the conflict of interests would subside.

This land is mine, welcome hither,
Posters and flyers bubbling thither.

There will be an end of days-

Must I struggle when the sun sets?

But rather drink the fading rays

and find my peace in coral clouds

where godly light reflects on waves

creating crescent gold vignettes.

And in the darkly impending night

my starless wishes will belong

in words my feeble hands will write

on one last page as the sun sets,

for there will be an end of days-

May 2019
“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
― Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds
I know the toothless women
Who crumple on the streets
The rain bleeds through their cardboard,
The cold drips through their feet

I know the dying children
With anaesthetic arms
The angels crowd around them
With time that burns their palms

I've hugged the brainwashed gangsters
With money drenched in blood
I've heard their broken weeping
While digging up the mud

I've seen the starving faces
Of the tired girls at home
The broken, hectic psyches
That eat them to the bone

I know the burning poets
With a desperate thirst for life
The need for finding soulmates
That pierces like a knife

There's weary public servants
Who risk their lives for good
And prove compassion every day
Yet stay misunderstood

Human love is buried
Beneath the plastic weight
Of angry allegations
And a world that feeds off hate

These people may be messy,
But they're beautiful and real
With hidden dreams and secrets
And ability to feel

We have a place to run to
With lights of peach and gold
Where all the weight is lifted
And all our tales are told

We live in total freedom
So safe beneath the moon
And though it seems ambitious
Our dreams will save us soon
The night brings comfort to those who need it most
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