Sound VI: And I'm also part of this game!

I am a man full of life and soul,

They need a professional and specialized body.

I'm marketized in the columns,

Where boys and girls search for professionally tagged contestants.

They win who have higher market value,

And I'm also part of this game!

But I fight!

I do things which I never wanted to do,

For I feel things just happen to me and

I become just a subject of certain certainties.

Nothing is accidental in this world

Where you and me live in hope of good future and

Hope.

Its written and there is no space for future,

For there is no hope since everything is written.

Comments

Hindolam: S

When someone is taken away from you, you realise how much you need that person. The universe took 'him' away from her and she wasn't ready to give up yet. She needed to get back to 'him', to her world. That was the only thought that crossed her mind, it consumed her. Her fear, perplexities and doubts vanished, this was the moment she figured out what she really wanted. She realised that she knew it all along. She loved 'him' so dearly that she wouldn't leave 'him' for anything in the world. She told him, "I belong to 'him'. No matter how intensely you love me, I will love 'him', not you. Because it was a promise for a lifetime. Even death can't do us apart. Let me go. I have to go back to 'him'. I know I'm hurting you but 'he' needs me. And do you know how ardently I love and admire 'him'? As much as you love me, if not more. And 'he' loves me much more than that also. ” His moist eyes...

Rage

Rage, rage, rage! Rage unto the roaring skies and rob the mighty waves of light; And sound the clash of Titans. Bring me them in the arc, I shall drink them to the less. Ah, my Angels and Devils, Rage unto the eternal fire and waters, I shall blow the west wind and chariot unto the Eastern skies. I carry the unquenched fire and sound the trumpet of war. They devoured Prometheus's liver, Defiled Hypatia upon Caesareum's altar, Stripped by oyster shells, Bathed in the blood of Jesus, the Nazarene. I bury them. Yes, I bury them. I see the reversal of the time- Those who walk on land shall return to their origin. The slave of the past, Bearer of forefathers' sins, Shed your blood, find solace in your shadows, As they demand the return of your sins. Show me your hands For, they drop blood and wipe the stains of sins they p...

Kundera

Emerging from the lampshade, a nocturnal butterfly fluttered erratically, startled by the sudden overhead light. As I closed the book, the strains of a distant piano and violin drifted weakly from below. Lost in contemplating the butterfly's flight patterns, I found myself entranced. Kundera, sensing my bewilderment, remarked on the rhythm, the highs and lows of the musical strains below. He spoke of the interconnectedness of each note, emphasizing how even the pauses between them contributed to the symphony's beauty. I was drawn to the profound silence, where a symphony was meticulously orchestrated. Interrupting my reverie, she snatched the book from my chest, exclaiming, "What are you reading?" I could only respond with an "Ah!"

The Ballads of Gravity

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