By Abhishek Kumar Singh
Waited for calls
stared at walls
pointed in halls
Briefed of withdrawls
Cooked once ate thrice
Hooked for the prize
Who knows if its demise
Stayed in the books like a nerd
Hinted always to be part of the herd
Hindered never knew how to fly like a bird
Here there is a Pandit and there's a Pope
Tell me my beloved do we have any hope
Thoughts are often deeper than ocean
How are we different if both our skins burn
Lets hurl stones at each other here your turn
Using these hands as carefully as a mortician
Chewing something hastily that's already bitten
Carrying your sins around like Mariner's Albatross hitten
Talking to someone who raised inflection
Pointing out all my facts were pure imperfection
Confirming his own ardent diction
Walking ahead leaving behind reflection
Spoke while muting the masses
It's those days when they overfill people's vases
While keeping their hands closer to the maces
Its all about the sip
You got a side to pick
Hurry up be quick
Caste catharsis causing cadaverous cacophonous calamity
Caricature criticism censured committee
There's nothing that i have learnt
Hanged to these trees and burnt
You're the hunted still going for the hunt
You were suppossed to pay attention you weren't
Came into this world with Tabula Rasa a clean slate
No pre conceived notions no bias, love or hate
Broaden your eyesight all exits lead to the same gate
Wandering the nights as if lost spirits
Hearing the noises of the crickets
Longing to meet you even for minutes
Abhishek kumar Singh
Mingling on the middle path
Filling pages, meditating sages, four stages, everything ages , nothing called wages
Is it really opium
What can be done bare minimum
If one's Life is lacking momentum
It is the solution leaving this stadium
And joining the so called Universal kingdom
Or is it all mere fanaticism
So many voices its deafning
Everyone trying to be leading
Background noises I'm not understanding
It's your area keep elaborating
But that's one opinion you're insinuating
Repetitive rigorous rigid remains
Sacrosanct seamless sentiment synthesis
Several colours but it's the same sketch
Saying other ones are pale is a stretch
Look closely for meaning around the hedge
And tie up these so called loose edge
Drawing lines and boundaries for the minimal
You're the nadir and I am the pinnacle
You're alien and i am aboriginal
The condition is mingle with us or become invisible
We have the numbers game you're vincible
Soon you'll become fictional and then apparitional
Jumbling Belief,
Mumbling Chief,
Attaining Relief,
Causing Disbelief!
Taking middle path instead of a road
Followed the river from its origin to where it flowed
Sat there with my eyes closed
Waited there like a sunflower till the sun glowed
Love for all is the message
Keep mingling with people in this life’s cottage
So your exit from here becomes an easy passage
Fire, mud and box in the end we all have the same linkage.
By Abhishek Kumar Singh
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