They said that one should never compromise on peace,
What might one get by speaking out
And one should always let it go,
For voices would fade and drown in the flow.
The subtle rift on the road, leading
Towards two opposing poles,
Yet it never cries for your heart, never!
(But one should never compromise on peace).
When I had dreams that some day I would thrive
Was I this blind to the real life?
The sky, overcast, hangs above the muddy roads,
Over the damp piles of metal and bricks,
Over this void of trees and an excess
Of biped freaks, the proud owners of the land.
The urgency to reach where I must go
Intensifies. I must be there before
The shift begins, of honored slavery,
Before the raindrops start to fall.
For the cost of means would go up no doubt
With each drop. How come they don’t pay us more
When we attend our shifts, no matter what
The skies might have thrown up at us?
That’s the way of things and one must live with the flow
Or be gone, for once a slave, one can never know.
… And cold wind blows across the shore
While the bubbles of life, rise up
From unfathomed depths of the sea,
Drawn by the clear light, shining through.
The fleeting wind leaving traces
On the moist grains of sand.
Like ours awhile ago, before
The harmonies of wave leveled the ground.
Yet, the bubbles of life keep rising up,
From the depths where no light can go,
Where the sea is murky black forever,
Rising up to touch the light, shining through.
Then there stands a bunch of trees with no name
Like friends of the lonely shore
Attending the vast solitude
And bearing witness to the shifts of sand.
Their shadows stretching almost to the sea
When the setting sun on the western sky
Is greeted by the high tidal surge
Blue waves caress the shadows good bye.
And no sooner the bubbles touch the light
Fleeting wind takes the life on its wing
And flies to another shore far away
Where the moist grains of shifting sand
Hold its traces for awhile and shadows
Stretch almost to the waving sea….
Drifting in ether like a cloud,
Looking for a home on the mountain slope
And riding on the cosmic wave
Like a river in spate
All craving for the sea.
Like the universe itself, expanding
Ever towards an oblivion.
No wonder, the moon revolves
Around the earth, there being nothing closer
That has an even greater pull.
How some floating cloud veils the sun
Though living in the realm
Far below than the glowing star!
That’s how we look at things down here,
Impartial and just, for the best of us.
How nice it would have been
If we could reverse things.
When the earth from moon appears green and blue
How does it feel to know
That my moon is larger than me?