Wake Up!

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The day sun descended
To wake up the dead
A blinding light lit the hallway
Positivity floated around them

Nudging each other
They tried to open their eyes,
Move their numb limbs
To rise, to show their valor

Open arches’ acerbic voice
Stirred some sentiments
Sardonic sound shamed
The mute expressions and excuses

Crushed by fear and distress
They waited for their messiah
Nowhere could he be found
Ruins reverberated waterloo

When people forget their power
When they waver and totter
When they pigeon out
Fall overwhelms the dead.
© Balroop Singh

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The Reward #Writephoto

knock

Someone sat at the door sniggering
I could never knock at
Emotions fluttered for freedom
Feet followed yet entrenched
In darkness, with closed eyes
I dared forward
Your presence pried over my mettle
A grunting sound scared me

I knew that sound
Yes! I told myself – this is familiar
I waited, fear throttled me
Could it be you!
You… who abandoned me
In the woods we wanted to explore
Together we started
Yet alone, staring at each other!

Wilderness beyond…
As your eyes signify
Scowling with a devilish expression
I wish you could have cared
I wish you could understand
Belongingness is a basic human instinct
Rejection has its own rewards
Yours is well deserved!
© Balroop Singh

Thanks to Sue Vincent for the inspiration and #writephoto

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The Land Of The Dead

The Land Of The Dead

They lived in the land of the dead
Nodding to whatever was said
Muttering to themselves…
‘His word is law…he is the lord
A God sent messiah…
He has given us all’.

Content with their muted state
Always ready to bite the bait.
They crept into their graves
And the institution thrived.
The devil exulted at his success
The dead never speak, he surmised.

Someone entered the land of the dead
Dragged life along ahead
Stirred them out of their slumber
But before muffled voices
Could be heard, he was yelled at
Cursed, chastised, forced to quit

Could anyone force out fortitude?
Could he ever be booed?
When people learn to understand
Submission to injustice
Is akin to living
In self-created graves…

They wake up before it is too late
Speak out their mind with berate
Break the fetters of intimidation
Rise from the graves and look around
The sun is shining splendidly
And they are still alive!
© Balroop Singh
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