when even words fail me, in every turn
where do, and who to, in life, i turn
someone hoist me out of this wordless well
dry and abandoned, that did once swell….
did not we swam merrily, when it was full
drank enough of its sweetness, mouthful
life, baked and bare, like a desert, barren
a wordless pit where conflicts do deepen
and sans rainy words, love too have failed us.
the Word failed us, miserably, or rather
we failed the Word, isn’t it a state of bother
in an emptied sky, we play with mushroom clouds
where shall we take shelter, when hatred reigns
from skies – left or right, Islam, Christian or Hindu
and what difference it makes, whether the marking
on the bomb, is a crescent, or stripes, or stars,
or Ashok Chakra; total annihilation,
that we bring, in the name of peace & conciliation
*‘how shall we fill, this empty spaces
where we used to talk’ in merry faces
* Pink Floyd
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