Protest

“don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.”
-Bob Dylan
(the times they are a-changing)


I was the guy
Who burnt in shame
When you were made to run naked
In the streets of civilization

I was the lonely youth
Who stood helpless
When you were torched
For being a witch

I am the insecure angry man
Who died a thousand deaths
In the bloody streets of the city of joy
When I saw the mask of humanity pulled off your bloody faces

Where do I find courage?
To fight a mutated evil
To protest, to stand tall…
When they take away from me all that I have ever known

Together, I dream of a future
An appointment with time
A time for which I waited like no other
A time when we finally protest…

It is time to protest against
The emperor’s nude vanity
To do what the youth stands for…
To herald the time for change…

To The Other Side

The cold nozzle of the gun
Heralded the dawn
Walking on the blood-soiled roads
They walked home

In the anguish of the multitude
Stood a forlorn lover
The stench of her burnt flesh
Fresh in his memory

The nightmarish nights and the dark days
The constant push towards the edge
The hate, the impotent anger, the lost pride
Made him a hollow shell

Fear the wrath of the lonely lover
Fear the sighs of hollowed hearts
Today I am dead for you…
But beware the kiss of a rose…

The Outcast

Tantalizingly close yet a breath too far
Holding on to the cornerstone of my existence
The endless pursuit in search of my identity
Engaged in the futile endeavor to belong…

I walk on the wall of sanity
Daring to look over the edge…
I create my world, where you belong…
I dare to dream of a world where we belong…

Who are they to pass a verdict…
Who gives them the power to fetter my feelings
I dare them to bind the sea
I challenge them to come here and see

Time flows on…as it always does
Carrying with it the flimsy excuse we call humanity
The elaborate masquerade…
To hide their fear of me…you…and us who are different

The crime of love made me an outcast
Romance made me a madman and a fool
But to cap it all, I refused to be a bootlicker
So, helpless, they killed me

I do not write this to complain
Or to change society, to prove the might of the ‘aged’ pen
I write to seek the reason
Why they couldn’t just let me be…