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Jun 2014
Walking through a busy street
The sound of hurried feet
Nearly drowned out
By fast cars and their rush.
Walking for a while,
The zipping slows down
Hurried footsteps calm.
Reaching a dark alley
With piles of rubble high
Leftovers of the incomplete
And youngsters so angry.
A place that reeks of hunger,
The hunger of freedom
The hunger of love.
Lungs exhausted
Of the blackness
That dwells within.
Eyes red from the false ecstasy
That lurks inside the unhappy.
They play with lightning
Giving no care
As they risk their lives.
Only light can destroy darkness,
They have a soul
But hiding in their shells
Illumination is captured within.
Consumed by demons
They don't fight back
Surrendering themselves
Trapped in the devil's lair.
Content with faux joy,
Or at least they exhibit
All they need
Is to believe in
Lost trust and lost love.
Their lungs may be black
Eyes red,
But their soul is always pure
Ready for a new life
Accepting of cure.
Momentary pleasure
Is the head's high, but
"Love and freedom" says the heart
"is mine."
Sasha Ranganath
Written by
Sasha Ranganath  25/Non-binary/Bangalore, India.
(25/Non-binary/Bangalore, India.)   
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