As I slowly open my eyes,
I see a scene—
I don't realise.
There's light in front with no source,
And clouds beneath me that feels soft.
As my feet floats,
My body feels light,
And in this peace my mind sighs.
"Where am I?" — my mouth speaks,
"A void of bliss", a voice repeats.
"Are you God?", I ask that voice,
A chuckle reverberates behind me,
Hint of femininity,
equal masculinity.
A loud thunder with splatter of rain,
Whispered truths with screaming lies-
Like some power of ancient pain.
Addictive yet ugly,
Like bliss killing slowly.
The voice slowly rumbles-
I'm not God,
just a creator,
With morals in my work.
I'm not your Brahma,
Neither your Jesus
Nor your Allah,
Not even your Buddha.
I'm just a deed paver-
A server for the sinners,
And a saver for believers.
A good heart,
A strong faith,
A maddening hope,
And kind hand-
Is all you require.
I'm all you can think,
I'm part of your thoughts.
I'm the father who provides,
The son you need,
The daughter you neglect,
The mother who feeds.
The animals I create,
The birds in the sky,
I'm the sea that got salt,
The drain water that's unclean,
the holy rivers that flow,
And the ghats where you clean.
I'm the creator-
I'm also the creation,
Yet you humans got-
Your thoughts mistaken.
Suddenly the voice stops,
And I see a blurred shadow,
The source of voice nears me,
As I clutch my hands with building fear-
In this heart of mine,
And in despair.
With warm air,
And cold eyes,
The shadow makes some sound ,
That feels like world's demise.
It says-
In that scrawny world,
How would you love?
If your mind refuse,
Since Humans use,
So No one to choose.
A whimper escapes
But I didn't hear,
A tear escapes,
And I didn't care.
The voice rumbles-
In my name you rule,
How could you forget-
I'm not the one you could fool?
In my name-
Every war waged,
Every terror raged,
Women, children-
All chased,
The freedom caged,
Love, hope and care-
All bled,
The bloods stained,
All dead,
Yet None fazed.
All these acts whom are you doing for?
All the glasses whom are you breaking for?
All the prayers whom are praying for?
All your life whom are you living for?
A terror of realisation descends upon me,
As the voice slowly gives me the war key...
"The choice have been always yours to choose."
The voice repeats.
But this time it will break or repeat.
YOU ARE READING
UNLEASHED
Non-FictionThese pages weren't meant to be read. They were meant to survive me. A collection of midnight poems, and word-spills from someone who loves deeply, overthinks daily, and still hasn't learned how to stop feeling everything all at once. Read if you've...
