Friday, 14 June 2013

Collision of ideas and thoughts

Age is nothing but a number, written to hold a recognition in this world of unknown
To differentiate between the runners on the track of life, without emotions they stand
Written in black they are without colours, bland just like without spices they are.

Hidden behind the long hairs are they eyes, noticing every winner being called on stage
A smile drenched in happiness, eyes in another face wet with tears
A laugh of victory shared among the winners, faces hidden are those of the losers and of the weepers
Killed is everything but hope, it's not killed for it is washed away by the flood of failures.

Confidence is what made a flower bloom, or it is what made someone take a stand to against tyranny
Words spoken are what makes a voice, wakes the sleepers from their daydreams, and ends the drought of conscience.

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