Enough, it’s enough!
The tears of war widows have withered,
why drench them with fresh spells of blood?
Enough of beckons of radicals leaving no one to the seemingly beautiful rhythms of war.
When you die, your power becomes
All blood is red,
across borders and boundaries too.
It’s enough of all the atrocities and abuse,
fighting and killing in the name of
caste and creed!
Capitulating to the captivation of imprudence
and dichotomy is not an act of pride,
it’s a syndrome of ignominy.
The migrant laborers walking on
sands of shattered dreams,
swallowing pangs of sorrow
today amidst an uncertain tomorrow,
traversing between the edgy bridges
of life and death, all lives matter!
It’s enough of hearing,
seeing and complaining.
It’s time to act.
When one is born, one is destined to die.
A breath does not distinguish,
acts of kindness,
acts of humanity do!
When one dies, nothing matters,
your ego, your wealth and superiority
burn as ashes too!
But they remain, remnants of your
as sown seeds,
and that’s when people get to see
the dead living!
Copyrights @Brindha Vinodh