Smothering Silence

 Our animosity towards God is reflected in every distressing possession we have sacralized. every piece of land we split in two every door we latched to keep someone every unmindful attempt of being. Our misgivings and that cynical terror, each one, each time is a violent attempt  to ravage his idea. His effortless tyranny we say  is a way to speak to us,  As if he's begging us to say his grace, Rub our hands into rivers, till they melt Beat our backs, till they break Sing songs till our parched throats get drenched in blood. His barbaric ways- tests of time, we think are his favourite methods of communication. With our  coward beating hearts,  severe reluctance to take a chance, We refuse to even touch  that it might just all be made up. Our cracked understanding of concepts, Disgust for a shared bite, uninterrupted convenience and piercing silences, All dance upon the rubble of his home While we light up a candle, ring some bells and join our hands f...

 The depth of love letters written by an indecisive man to his mental mother, a prayer. The depth of his tears, the uninspired life thriving on the probability of hope, a river. The depth of an unrequited love story that couldn't surpass the law of statistics, a rotten fruit. The depth of human mind to feel millions of things as if they are its own While nothing in the world ever is.