Beating the odds

 

Dear world, do not judge me,

For being a non-conformist.

With egos so fragile, I know,

“We” must no longer exist.

 

But often, what we have done,

Is superseded by who we have been.

Holds immense possibilities,

The future, not yet seen.

 

Who does the killer punch land on?

Only someone dearly loved.

It’s time we hold back our shots,

This is not what they deserved.

 

We all need a way to come back,

To the home picked by our hearts,

To soak some pristine love,

After, at the end of the day,

We have played our parts.

 

What sense does it make,

To portray ourselves as strangers then?

Why force the eyes to look away,

Is either of us a heathen?

 

The next time we come across,

I promise, I will rectufy the trends.

You, my long lost friend,

Will see long due amends.

Silent February

 

Words don’t sound anymore here,

Silence breeds from a distance.

Do people feel it in the air?

The stillness-

Of a magnanimous turbulence.

 

Sights can console hearts,

But the deafening silence will still choke,

These people must now seek,

New lands and make them home.

 

But if darkness does take over,

And the nights refuse to pass,

They may only wish,

They remember voices en-masse.