SOCIAL ACTIVISM

The idea of a silk route,
through the tunnels of an infamous memory.
The mirthless dust paves your road;
to discovery.

You tread through its complex patterns, often
in circular mazes,
wondering whether the futility of your two-bit existence,
may at least find mention,
in an incoherent obituary.

Your written word is dead.
And you voice too loud to be heard.
Appalling apathy;
Did those yellowed leaves of your newspapers teach you not to feel?

Is your life a reflection,
Or is it a mockery.
Mockery of all those pearls you were to find,
on that Silk Route.

The clamour of a faceless minnion comes to haunt you ,
A mutlitude embroidered with narrow graves of ideals.
And you had wanted,
to block those holes in the wall,
with your numb fingers.

Could this have turned out differently;this emaciated emotion,
Can those yellowed pages turn into black and white,
Can all that clear sky turn muddy again,
Please.

for all those who aren't strong enough to own up to a weakness,a fault or hurt....

watch that light,
take that road,
in my shoes,
it wont be long, now,
till you see me,
at the end.
holding up a sign board to solace