We are like four corners of a quadrilateral, right - angled, Me, my pen, my diary and my poems, all four of us are closely tangled, I am addicted to framing poems and I can proudly say, My addiction is my meditation, beneficial in the most constructive way.
My chessboard consists of twenty-six chess pieces, With whom I play and battle to create rhythmic verses, Dark and bright shades of nature, I unleash and glorify in rhymical style, I lay my inky petals of honour and praise, being a crazy logophile.
The tender skin of my pages, the nib of my pen caresses, Love in any of it's purest forms, when it comes across or witnesses, Concepts and facts, the masses are less aware about, I squiggle them down to rupture the ignorance, my words silently shout.
Every minute detail of life makes me muse upon, Be it the present phase, era yet to emerge or the period bygone, My words turn sharper than a sword coated with piquant euphemism, To prod & awaken the humans frozen beneath the sheets of brutalism.
Dark themes pull out the best in me and enhance my writing ability, Pertaining to the sins & crime pathetic shades of humans and humanity, I feel urged to write an ode, biography or a dedication to mortals and immortals, Also pieces with deep emotions, lessons of life and great values and morals.
When I am being challenged by writing communities to quote poems on the topics given, With strong rivals to be dealt with & the desire to pull off the bottle - neck competition, I just can't resist myself from writing, no matter the battle is lost or won, Every time I write a poem with all my energies converged, I find my new version.
Blind beliefs are like fake wealth we ingnorantly inherit, From our ancestors, who foregrounded practices, illicit, For the sake of safeguarding hollowed traditions and culture, Humanity gets hung till death, humans get burnt on the pyres of sheer torture.
I wonder how blind beliefs have been able to progress, From the era of darkness to the epoch of modernness, It's we, double - faced people, judge for others, lawyers for ourselves when guilty, Propagating toxic beliefs eroding the very fabric of our society.
A practice to sacrifice somebody else's children, In order to treat the womb of a woman, infertile and barren, Just on the suggestions of some corrupt saint, Who has no God, no religion, whose humanity's faint.
The pious fire to free the soul of a person, at his decease, Swallowing his widow, orphaning their children with such ease, If at all, she's been granted the permission to stay alive as a widow, There's a whole constitution set by a few sick -heads, she's ought to follow.
Another most practiced blind -faith we need to deal at this very point of time, A natural phenomenon of periods is being treated as a awful crime, But the male child born who dwelled in that impure blood throughout the pregnancy, In his mother's womb, gets welcomed by all with great ardour, height of hypocrisy!
Let's burn these blind beliefs in the fire of Sati and like systems, Let's sacrifice patriarchy hiding behind such out - dated customs, Let's pledge to rescue our society from such practices, toxic and tragic, Blind beliefs be dumped into blind pits, we'd walk on the lit paths of science and logic.
words_which_never_spelledoutHi! I will be highly pleased if you can do me a favour! I urgently need few subscriptions on my bestie's channel. Kindly extend your support if you find it worth! The link is in my bio!! Thanks for your precious time.
I am sure all the videos will be able to touch your soul deep.