Doodle Dream [CHON-Soon]

Monsoon has arrived,
not that great for urban life.

While the kids out
on the streets scream.

I’m here in my room,
listening to Bubble Dream.

Such an ambient atmosphere,
I enjoy it while no one is here.

Doodling on my Ukulele.

Strumming the strings,
and sliding fingers through the frets.

I now learnt how easy it is,
to play the riffs that
I presumed to be hard.

However, what still remains
a dream, is  playing CHON.

Maybe one of these days
I’ll burst the bubble,
and play one of their riffs
Flawlessly.

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Admit Defeat

As the picture
Of world’s end becomes clearer
I sit in my room and
Look outside the window
and wonder
“Can the horizon be caught?”

Know nothing I do
Of what’s to hit hard
Is it a demon
Or just a filthy wild human?

A lie becomes a fact
And a fact becomes a lie
“What sorcery is this?”
“Are we even going to survive?”

Fabrication is so common
You find it everywhere
“It’s what leads to victory”
Oh, you really think so?
That is such a pity

I gazed through the glass window
What I saw was no less
than a slaughterhouse
In an abandoned meadow

Pass through that I must
Inevitable this seems
I don’t even want to face it
But is there another way
From where I can proceed?

I hope fools realize
That they won’t win
Father stands here
He is the one who owns it

No mind misguide
Shall make you succeed
Demons too will bow down
And admit defeat

Very Unintellectual!

In the 21st Century, when machines had taken over everything, technology had become a lifestyle and every human obtained information from nano gadgets just with one click. It led to the rebirth of this planet, as they say. But there was something that was still the same….

Man hadn’t stopped wandering. Aeons ago, he used to wander in search of food, shelter and you know what the drill is, Don’t you? Hah! I thought so. Here, the wandering was within the four walls of the room that consisted a desk, a pen, paper and a Laptop and other usual gadgets.

So unusual huh?

This was in an attempt of presenting the ideas in an artistic manner.

Oh wait, wait…hold on a sec. I know the whole narration so far has been in past tense. Perhaps this is a message from the future or a perspective or maybe you as readers must also know the art of hallucinating sober in order to understand this. ‘Artistic representation of ideas’ as it has been mentioned.

So back to the point…
The wanderers were in search of innovative ideas in order to create something worthy. It could be a product, a thought, a painting. The objective was to create and build something that would make a difference but some of the thinkers wandered inside their head or on the internet for obtaining productive material and lost track of it.

Just like the author of this text who sat in his room for hours, made an attempt to write a story and couldn’t finish it but now the readers gradually know that he couldn’t!

Well, that definitely makes it a story, Doesn’t it?!

Next is What?

Gone are the days,
Countdown has begun.
Is this the end
or just beginning?

The clock ticked
and months passed by.
Another year ends,
In the Blink of an Eye.

Have I found the path yet?
Maybe I’m searching still.
Is this the year,
When I’ll complete the drill?

What is to come?
What would the next be?
Nothing that I know of
What am I to see?

The numbers have changed
But it still feels the same
Wasn’t I just a kid until yesterday?

Maybe I still am, I do not know.
The Relentless Being will
Guide me to the Shore!

Mighty (S)words

Words are weapons
Words are shields
The words express
All that you feel

They lift your ego up high
Smash your sentiments down quick
They make your day
Or put you in a daze

Words change your mind
Words change your way
Words give you the power
That no one else can take

They save you from the doom
They make the crowd move
They light up your faces
Also, earn you respect
of Apprentices

‘Pen is mightier than the Sword’ They say
Honestly, if it weren’t the words
Pen would’ve been nothing
nor would’ve been the (S)word

Bright

Festival of Joy,
Festival of Light
Aesthetic Culture
City shines Bright.

Walking down the street
I watch those kids play
Bursting crackers aloud
They laugh across the haze

It’s not just the homes
Or not only the streets
It’s the light that penetrates
through and brings Joy
to the innocent people
living a Dark Life.

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Same Land, Same Soil

The Emperor –
“YOU! You have broken the rules and disobeyed my command.
Likes of you should be lynched publicly and torn apart!
Leash you by the neck I will and drag you down the street.
Pull your guts out and let the filthy rats and swines feast.
Behold shall the whole town while I make you suffer!
Kneel before me and beg for mercy or you shall pay the price!
The last call this is indeed so bow down
or the vultures shall be fed upon your carcass!”

The Victim –
“Pardon me, Thy highness for voicing to thyself.
No! I will not bow so low to please thy pride and self.
For my God knows I am an honest man
and have committed no offence.
Be not proud of your Power and your Wealth.
Falling down is your Empire and deteriorating is your Health.
Victimised I have been and have done no wrong!
Kill me if you must but mark my words in this turmoil
Nothing of this does one take along with self once dead.
Eventually we all are the same and end up in a deathbed.
Your grave will soon be dug around mine, on the same Land.
The expensive coffin shall too be buried, in the same Soil!”