Sunday, 6 November 2011

in this world of conceit, didn’t find
the real messianic soul, everyone
was busy to expose the hidden
egotismthe philanthropist
often remained isolated,
in the darkness of
blind lane, the
voice of humanism raised the hands,
instantly pseudo characters
hijacked the issue, used
as a weapon to get
the mileage for
self interest,
groan of sufferer were lost in the hush
of cemeteries, in the locked doors -
destiny of lesser god’s children,
decided amid the landlord,
knight, priest, shrouded
crusader, in the sunset,
I had seen the entire
blazing parish, in
the night same
torch bearing
hands were busy, distributing the
pieces of bread, few emotional
ointment, innocent injured
heart later became busy
to repairing the
dream, in the morning life accepted
the nightmare as a part of
destiny, now priest said
his version of story,
alarming sins,
it’s the indication of apocalypse, in
the shrine special prayer is
going on, god knows only
the meaning of miseries,
in this moment I have
nothing to say,