26/02/2012 by Siddiqui Fayesal
Guns, clips and empty shells
Keep me company by my bed,
It’s all messed up, high above
My usual, deep inside my crazy head.
I’ll find it easier to stab him
With that broken fork in his plate,
Rather than explain to my friends
Why he brought upon that hate.
It’s welling inside like a poisonous
Isn’t it right to want to hurt if
What’s hurting you refuse to go?
The demons in the suits are
Going stronger at their cause
While I await and twiddle my
Thumb and cry away at my loss.
I have company of many
That cry with me each night.
I’m waiting for The One who would
Put actions in our might.
Money, green or red, it matters non
To these, our faithless Masters,
Like we’re meant to keep them
Clean from us and call them Holy Brothers.
They laugh and smile and shed
Some tears and then walk away.
Some silently mock us from afar
While some do it to our face.
We wait and we curse and yet
We do no deed right;
We scorn them from the distance
But near we come and show them fright.
They drink our fear and therein
Lies their victory;
We stoop, they stamp; its their
Magical evil trickery.
I’m here to heed, I’m here to help
But please give me a helping hand.
I’m here to keep you smile and laugh
But I still need those helping hands.
I’m weak just like you think I am
But I have strength residing within.
Waiting to be found it awaits its turn.
It lies dormant therein.
I’m more at home with hatred now
And less with wild needless empathy.
I stand tall among my men but they too
Fear me now and call my cruelty.
No sweet words and encouraging
Tone for those who cannot stand-
No speech nor kisses can free the
Morale of men who have no plan.
I’d rather take my spear and kill
The unarmed in my willing army
Than waste those words and precious
Praises on such who are no more worthy.