A Truth is better
than hundred lies
If one is living like a Dead
**then it's better he dies

At times I wonder ,
Where Beauty lies ?
Inside beautiful things
Or within my eyes ?

Its outward hushed-up demeanor;
Symbol of calmness it seems.  
But if I could only show to all;
Within me how it screams.

Austere, aged trees standing since years.
Shrubs, grasses and wild flowers abound.
Similar in appearance, grave after grave.
Serenity everywhere, tranquility surround.

But matter is different from beneath the earth.
Serenity is just an illusion beneath the skies.
Let not the perpetual calmness deceive them.
All those who look with their worldly eyes.

Their deeds accompany them in their graves.
All alone the dead ones never dwell.
Grave is but a garden from gardens of heaven.
Or it is just a pit from the pits of the hell.

Their obsession to conquer.
Their ancient desire to subdue.
They utilize every opportunity;
And stamp me with their shoe.

A fact they should have known.
Long ago I lost all my ******.
With the passage of time.
I have turned into dead dust.

Calmness is all what I needed.
Only if they had left me alone.
Like dust I would settled down.
Without force subdued on my own.

However, they stamp me repeatedly.
Big-chested, Arrogant guys!
But the more they stamp me,
The more like dust I rise.

Surrounded by kith and kin
' Success ' is well known.
Poor ' Failure ' is an orphan;
lives in seclusion, all alone.

Clothing made of pure fibres.
Highly visible leather shoes.
Conduct attuned to corporate etiquette.
Words with care they choose.

If you'all are inspired by any.
Then you all should know.
Amongst the men holding ranks high.
Many have stooped very low.