Metamorphosis skipped

 

The skies pour incessantly,

And a free mind is trapped inside,

The prison is not a luxurious one,

Only about 12 feet long, 10 feet wide.

 

A space so densely packed,

With all kinds of stuff;

It could have felt anything but empty,

But yet, over the last two nights, it does.

 

Is this the ultimate transition from,

Human consequences to the one beyond?

From Dostoevsky to Kafka’s metamorphosis?

Of factors humane and those somewhere around?

 

Whatever now! Everyone is forgiven,

That prisoner has already decided;

Let the insects rot from within,

Wisdom will rule the ones, who've been guided.

 

One day, freed from toxic obligations,

A strong viewpoint will be posited.

Hopefully, at least one scribbler out there,

Will make sure that it is duly credited.

 

 

Him vs God

 

Years passed, and unwillingly,

They all grew old.

Unwilling to give a damn about anything anymore,

Their stories, no longer dear, go unsold, untold.

 

Losing the ability to feel or care,

With every day that is breathed;

Toxicity inside grows, at least, linearly,

Till all they owned is finally bequeathed.

 

Where’s the fun now, the elders wonder-

The young would think so.

But all they actually sought was peace, and,

They don’t expect these assholes to know.

 

Yes, life is a stage, and we play,

But just playing doesn’t define lives.

Love is important, family is supreme,

But only inside the individual self, life thrives.

 

What really does one deserve or desire?

Let that be decided subjectively.

Do not ask me for my opinion now,

My mind is way older than my age actually.

 

Just go ahead and do what your heart wants,

The others will do the same, so fuck the taunts.

The God, you don’t believe in, sits here,

Come to him only when, your conscience is clear.

Cleansing

It is not a conscious decision,

It is, may be, just who I am.

Lovers, I can live without;

Worshippers, reside in my heart.

 

They who expect respect from me,

Must know the only condition.

You must surrender your consciousness,

There’s no scope for competition.  

 

If it is not under his divine feet,

You are searching for life in the wrong place.

All your endeavors boil down to zero,

You have to eventually land at this one sacred space.

 

Mediocrity is what I’ve always hated,

I can no longer let you spread it here.

You, your genes, your prospects, whatever;

Of all your mistakes, I must steer clear.  

Right places

As a young man, he thought,

How low can a breathing creature go?

What these lowly lifeforms deserve,

He knows it all now, his knowledge is so.

 

They would never enter,

That what he has declared as home.

On the peripheries of their own existence,

Their conscience meets his divine feet, wherever they go.  

 

Several small people, riding on others,

Start feeling big themselves;

All they need is a true conversation and then,

They'd self-destruct, these self-proclaimed rebels.

There is a right place for everyone, 

And someone now goes down to the lowest tier.

Shouldn't come as a surprise,  

We do what we do, without any fear.