Our World
Our World
In the dark dawn of the frozen night,
In the flashing thunder of heaven's fight,
I see the crimson orb of Hope and Life,
Tireless struggle, endless strife.
The rusty leaves fallen on the ground,
The barren leaves,
Despair and Grief murking around,
And there blows an airless breeze.
Neither sparks of colour nor dreams of song,
Measuring Life's distances by Melancholy's furlong,
Time spent in wasting useful time,
And cursing creation as His crime.
Forgotten songs of the beaten rain,
And the music of the glowing flame,
The agony of the hungry grain,
Whom to question, and whom to blame?
Emptiness and Solitude vast and profound,
Chained thoughts and desires bound,
Endless mastication due to Lust and Greed,
Yea! We the chosen creed.
The existence of lifeless limbs,
And the life of the non-existent,
Shallow voices and visions dim,
Who to bridge the gap, to join the distant.
Where are we going?
To get what done?
Where's the river flowing?
And what have we begun?
Revenge! For blowing up the Tower,
Taken up at the unforgiven hour,
This country's ransom the life of my staff,
So ran the desertland's epitaph.
The dead past of shadows,
With bood, the Cross and the Crescent,
Thinking of the burning calls of tomorrows,
Whoever does live the present.
I attempt to make sense of this age,
Fools rejoice and angels rage,
They show me civilisation and man's refined taste,
I see the world they annihilate.
The Maker doth not see his creatures,
That once through wild Earth ran,
For there are fueding tribes and warring nations,
But no trace of man...
In the dark dawn of the frozen night,
In the flashing thunder of heaven's fight,
I see the crimson orb of Hope and Life,
Tireless struggle, endless strife.
The rusty leaves fallen on the ground,
The barren leaves,
Despair and Grief murking around,
And there blows an airless breeze.
Neither sparks of colour nor dreams of song,
Measuring Life's distances by Melancholy's furlong,
Time spent in wasting useful time,
And cursing creation as His crime.
Forgotten songs of the beaten rain,
And the music of the glowing flame,
The agony of the hungry grain,
Whom to question, and whom to blame?
Emptiness and Solitude vast and profound,
Chained thoughts and desires bound,
Endless mastication due to Lust and Greed,
Yea! We the chosen creed.
The existence of lifeless limbs,
And the life of the non-existent,
Shallow voices and visions dim,
Who to bridge the gap, to join the distant.
Where are we going?
To get what done?
Where's the river flowing?
And what have we begun?
Revenge! For blowing up the Tower,
Taken up at the unforgiven hour,
This country's ransom the life of my staff,
So ran the desertland's epitaph.
The dead past of shadows,
With bood, the Cross and the Crescent,
Thinking of the burning calls of tomorrows,
Whoever does live the present.
I attempt to make sense of this age,
Fools rejoice and angels rage,
They show me civilisation and man's refined taste,
I see the world they annihilate.
The Maker doth not see his creatures,
That once through wild Earth ran,
For there are fueding tribes and warring nations,
But no trace of man...
© Abhimanyu Jain., all rights reserved.
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