Suicidal Cult...

Its too similar,yes those stories...

Unfurled those flags of freedom,

talked into persuasion of righteousness,

only what it means,never known...



See,he bought his truth,

they bought his faith...

Lord became our teacher,

through a secret pact,

a Council,of selfish mortals...



Nicaea,its truth buried...

Washington,its truth buried...

Rome,its truth buried...

Jerusalem,its truth buried...



Its the Templars,or its the else,

its the Masons,or the else...

Its in faith,

the wheels of humanity...



Its Koran,or its the Bible...

The wheels,where none kills,

yet fights until they fail...



Martyrs unto the cause of God,

who knew,well,what truth was...

In truth,its all the same...



The mighty few,guide the masses through these lanes...

Killing,butchered,as they say for the higher cause,

but blood's all that's left,

in this Holocaust...



Now the God they say,

lives elsewhere,

its in the minds of those democratic and fair...

Those leading us,with their weapons in the fortress...

Those who fight,and kill humans,

with the strange stain...



A stain,where they kill,

and colour the victim's faces...

And with grief,etched on their masks,

mourn those victims they slayed...



Ah! The world,the wide world,

the ignorant wide world,

held at ransom,

by those few insane,

who think of their billion bills,

and their smelling fame...



Ah! The world,the simmering world,

the simmering losing world,

fooled into suicide,

by the suicidal cult...

Who but have built,

a clock that's ticking off,our time to stay

magnificently lame...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Elixir of Hope...

Its a weary presence,

my love,its an elastic existence,

that you lead...



Father,my dear father!

I know,it was painful,

when you sent your children to lead...



Mother,my dear mother!

I know,you have been,patient indeed,

with all that we call our deed...



Father,my honest old man,

Father,my dearest noble man,

I have seen your dreams,

shattered in pieces...



Yet,this day,

when we celebrate,our victory,

I remember,you grieved,

to see us,feast on madness,

that engulfed and destroyed your dreams...



Father,I remember,your daughter,

she said,you grieve...

She said,in all hope you showered upon us,

you ended losing your peace...



Father,your dream is but a distorted

untrue work here...

Here it breaks...

Complacency seeping in,on those,

vested with carrying your noble baton...



The fires,all those fires,of highest cause,

are now ashes,burning coals,

not a single flame rising...



All the fire that rises,

is of the hatred,that has besieged your dreams...



Father,I grieve not,for you died so soon...

Father,I celebrate your deliverance from this

insanity and grief...



We,who were gifted with noblest

of all seeds,

but gave way for leeches,

and the weeds...



The tree has but grown healthy,

and it is withered...

Shaking in its roots,

withering in its leaves,

hollow in its stems and branches...

And what,ah! What shall I say of the fruit??

The fruit is rotten or eaten by worming fleet...

Parasitic greed,plaguing this plant,

whose seeds you sowed,

with your honest palms and watered into a dream...



Ah! Father,

we seek you again,

a cleansing necessity we need...



An elixir of hope,

if you may,

please pass down from heavens

that we just can't reach...



For withered we may have been indeed,

but still life flows through the roots of our passive existence...

We know,we are hollow,

but still not dead,and

till this free breath remains,

remains a hope that we shall revive,

as the children of your dreams...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Omnipresence...

Are you there in the murky woods?
Are you there in the windy mountains?
Are you there in the flowing rivers?
Or are you in the chirping birds?

Some find you in solitude,
some find you in the middle of our brothers...

Some find you in happiness,
some find you in despondence,
some find you in chance,
some seek you in their destiny...

You seem to fulfill someone's life,
yet for some you are the life...

Sometimes you melt the very depths of one's heart,
yet in few moments,you harden the molten pains of a soul...

You bring tears to few eyes,
you wipe tears of others...

What are you?
where are you from?

We see you not,yet not stop feeling your presence...
Divine existence,worship worthy,
subtle beauty,inexpressible...

The music of silence,
the beauty inside a beast...

The life in the winds over shallow ripples of water...
The sweet joy flowing over the mist and fog...

The dew on one's soul,
always asking us to reach out,
always leading us into green,
always smiling at your children,
always making your children smile...

What are you?
Where are you from?

The subtle gift of humanity...
The beautiful mother of all souls...

One which has the wrath to start wars,
and the power to end them...

The manifestation of God,
if not God,by itself...

The subtle beauty called love...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju

Whispers of Silence...

When you fought a weary battle,
when you cried with your arms wide open..
When you tried to fool yourself of the untruth,
and calm your heart down...

When you strived to make people happy,
and you strived to make your self known...
When it is all talked out,and ended in a whisper..
When no matter what you say,
what you do,things don't change for better...

You sigh at that end of the day,
where your weary work has not borne any fruit,
and when you after burning your neck under hot scorchy sun,
come back and lie down and perspire...

At that end of the day,
when emotions have come and gone...
All the tears flown and dried,
and all the passion,wasted away...

You find yourself,numb,
oblivious to something called pain...
You shut yourself out,to all that hurts..

And even the faces of those people you loved,
doesn't bring a smile unto your face...
You feel there is pain to be felt,
but you don't feel any pain...

And you do what man has done for ages,
you move on,and just pale shadows remain...
At the end,with regret,perishes your speech,
and all you do,is whisper silences...

Because that is what is left behind,
when all else has left...
Even in the absence of your shadow,
you feel Pablo's infinite silence silences...

Even in the middle of nowhere,
you hear the whispers of infinite silence,silences...

© Karthik Adithya Singaraju