Thursday, February 10, 2011

Scene at the Streets

Everyday I pass by people
young and old, gay and frown
over-possessed with material encores
losing themselves in the rhythm divine.

There is hope, there is grief
more often that not, wrinkles speak
There is beauty, there are looks
beneath amazing facades, undisclosed crooks.

There are niggles and giggles
and innocence sparkling colors around
and there is silence, a profound one
reinforcing the authority of time.

Beneath every face is a happy child
superimposed by a worried man
yet, the eyes twinkle like the stars at twilight
refusing to give to up to the towering claims.

Life's taken its toll on humanity
its time we understand whats right
maybe not for our own sake
but for those who are yet to arrive.

Divine Conspiracy

Never pretend to a love you do not actually feel;
for love is not ours to command.

Never be shy to admit, if true;
for love is your gateway to God.

Never surrender to jibes masses make;
for heavens conspire to wade you through.


Revolutions are not born on the streets;
they rise in your mind.

The world needs more living heroes;
and you're here just in time.


If you can dream and not make dreams your master
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
and treat the two impostors just the same

If you can talk with the crowds and keep your virtue
or walk with kings, nor lose the common touch
If you can fill the unforgiving moment
with 60 seconds of distant run

Yous is the earth and everything thats in it
and which is more - you will be a man my son.