Of what interest can it be
when I have eyes but cannot see

I want to run like the wind
I may perspire
I may become weak
My sight may converge to the end

Of seas, mountains & flowers
Of eyes, smile & pain
Of love, illness & music
a veritable challenge in hand

People confide
This they live
under the czars
under the blanket of countless stars

Time, a compiler of thoughts
thoughts diffused in serenity
of which birds cannot comprehend
neither we breathing sapiens

Its the shadows that dont cry
Its the shadows that dont bleed

Engulfed in this storm of life
we are conditioned to live
to notice but not observe
to show mercy but not help
to mock at but not step up

Mundane lives, talking cliches

We are guardians of future
future taking birth every second
and becoming extinct the very next second

All we hear
beeps that transcends continents
continents made of swords
continents chaining love
and term it a pity slave

God, a great tester
we make a mockery of him
he gives time

we are good, he says
we are bad, we say

Of what interest can it be
when I have eyes but cannot see