STAB WOUND

What a massive effect does the undefined society has on us with its conventions and prejudices! This can only be realised if you look at it this way: most of us don't even realise we take our decisions such that they automatically concur with the unseen boundaries and unspoken commandments of this noble faced, beast, let's say.

God created life and life alone. Life is energy and vice versa. Everything and anything around us is a manifestation of this energy. Energies interact and propagate. Since when does energy rule (over each other)? 

Where is our sense of tolerance?

Where is our peace?

Coming onto this poem: What happens when we teach our kids about fairy tales and perfect things, about believing in ourselves and our dreams and striving to achieve them no matter the risks, no matter the consequences and then impose society and rules on them? Is it not treacherous to not follow what we preach, hypocritical even? Is it justified for such hypocrisy to leave stab wounds or does the 'society' makes it lawful? 

What is ironic, funnier even, is that these "rights and wrongs" vary from place to place and time to time. It is absolutely justified to have certain codes you wish to lead your life in accordance with. But, it is absolutely ruthless to impose them on others, to criminalise those who resist them and to judge them for it!

Is this not the most intrinsic level of slavery, with this dictator called society ruling over us all with rules it has made for its own pleasure?

In fears we believe in, we wish for our loved ones to not succumb to, yet somewhere down the line those fears take over us. 

Those who are fearless, would rather fall, than never fly!

In fact, society makes criminals. Wounds sometimes hurt, sometimes fester and kill. However, a lot of times these wounds 'wind us up' with energy which is indomitable, pure, massive- a motivation that never dies.

STAB WOUND

Shards and stones of realities harsh

Stab and leave some sharpnels and scars

Wounded "wilfully" wound up with wings

In strains of restrains in hollows of 'things'

Soaked up in sorrow such joys you share

Yet hope for happiness and care to care

One flap of these wings and life is here

One flap two more and nowhere near

-Mx