Conversation.

I met God,

On the corner,

Of a dusty boulevard.

I saw him stand,

With broken clothes.

And a cigarette,

In his hand.

I had to know,

Where was he,

When my time was low?

What was wrong,

Where had You been,

All along?

Where was He,

When the old man,

Was killing me?

Were you lost,

Or didn't You,

Realise, what it cost?

I met God,

On the corner,

Of a dusty boulevard.

I saw him stand,

With broken clothes.

And a cigarette,

In his hand.

Was it something,

Wrong in my part.

Was it something,

I should have known,

From the start?

Why didn't You help me,

Couldn't you hear me cry?

Why did you,

Let me bleed there and die?

I met God,

On the corner,

Of a dusty boulevard.

I saw him stand,

With broken clothes.

And a cigarette,

In his hand.

He held me hand,

And led me away.

He told me child,

I couldn't let you stray.

Here in this world,

I made with my hand.

Among all this evil,

You were too good to stand.

You maybe dying,

But look at me face.

Follow me onward,

To a better place.

I met God,

On the corner,

Of a dusty boulevard.

I saw him stand,

With broken clothes.

And a cigarette,

In his hand.

The World Will Move On.

Hypocrites fill the world,

Speaking out,

For what they haven't heard.

Try and make,

Some sense of it all.

Struggling with the door,

The sign says pull,

But yet we push some more.

Holding on,

To ideals that we lost.

The world will move on,

Yet we just hold on,

To things we should,

Have left long ago.

The world will move on,

Long after you are gone,

We will not change,

The way it spins you know.

The privilege of our birth,

Laughing out,

As we burn the earth,

Maybe we were,

Wrong from the start.

Common man he screams,

Waking up,

From one of sordid dreams,

Did he choose this life,

Or did we make it up.

The world will move on,

Yet we just hold on,

To things we should,

Have left long ago.

The world will move on,

Long after you are gone,

We will not change,

The way it spins you know.

Broken dreams and scars,

Stealing suns,

And reaching for the stars,

Is it any wonder,

How it fell apart.

Castles in the sky,

Falling down,

And you wonder why,

How could it,

Have all gone so wrong.

The world will move on,

Yet we just hold on,

To things we should,

Have left long ago.

The world will move on,

Long after you are gone,

We will not change,

The way it spins you know.

The Killer.

"Why would you kill me?"

Asked the pastor to the thief,

"Is it because you're poor,

Or because you have no belief?"

"Or do you do it,

So your table has food,

Or does my life depend,

On convenience and mood?"

The thief said, "Father,"

"I know that I sin,

But you know not the turmoil,

That I hold within."

"I was not always this man,

I could not kill even a bee,

But one night changed my life,

With the death of my family."

"Since then I believe,

That there cannot be a god,

And for preaching in his name,

You are no more than a fraud."

The pastor said, "Son,"

"Maybe life is not as you see,

Just because your love died,

Does not mean you cannot be free."

"You may choose to murder,

Loot, steal and kill,

Or you could try and listen,

To your own free will."

"True," replied the killer,

And brought the gun to a head,

He squeezed on the trigger,

And the pastor lay dead.

"My child never sinned,

And nor did my wife,

Then tell me this father,

Why didn't the lord spare their life?"

"In His name you spoke,

In your preachings you lied,

I find it ironic then,

That with his teachings you died."

The killer stepped outside,

From church and Lord's home,

Again he realised,

That he was truly alone.

He reached for the paper,

That he held in his hand,

And he crossed another name,

As he cleansed the land.

He stepped in the rain,

Slowly he moved on,

Another preacher had to pay,

Before the break of dawn.

Trapeze Artist.

How long had it been,

I just cannot say.

Coz the day I had arrived,

Looked a look like today.

The years rolled by,

And the seasons changed.

But everything inside me,

Still seems the same.

How can I say,

What happened in my life.

When I don't even know,

Why I'm still alive.

The days have all gone,

As the sun rose and set.

And someday I will die,

Without a drop of regret.

Everyone wants to ask,

Why am I here?

What is in my life,

And what do I fear?

I know not what to say,

For I don't know myself.

But I tell them the answers,

Are the same as yourself.

Why is it then?

That life comes around.

When all that I had lost,

Was someday found.

What do you say?

When you seek no answers.

You tell who ask the questions,

Why do they wonder?

Why do they care,

What I have to say?

How does it matter,

To them anyway?

Why do they wonder,

Under which sky I lie?

Does it even matter,

Wether I live or die.

P.S.> I've been on a roll. I don't know why, I don't know how, I don't even know if all that I wrote in these 2 days of March, is even worth anything. All I know is, I've felt this urge to write and for some reason I'm thinking too much. I just felt the need to put it in words and tried to make them as songs, but they are not. 

These last few works are poems, no matter how much I try to deny it or change it. People will scoff, ridicule, point and amuse themselves. Or maybe they will wonder for a deeper meaning. If you are a part of the wonderers, then please, just regard these as nothing more than a youth's ramblings put into rhyming prose. 

"I'm not a poet. I hate the term. I consider myself to be a trapeze artist, swinging from words to phrases and thoughts to ideas. I carefully balance the words and attempt to keep the reader's eyes on me throughout my act of a few verse. Maybe some lose sight and some find it boring, I find it a way to express myself to those around me." -- Bob Dylan.

It hurts.

So we say we make a way,

Without hurting others.

We're smiling at the man,

As we kill his brothers.

Even if intentions are right,

And methods go wrong.

How can we dare to say,

We wanted peace all along.

So now look,

Within your heart,

For the answers,

You search.

Coz every moment hurts,

Every movement hurts,

Every moment, 

It hurts.

So we try to find a way,

To end the suffers.

We say we give to them,

All we have to offer.

How can we turn our backs,

When we started it all.

We have to find a way,

Catch all those who fall.

So now look,

Within your heart,

For the answers,

You search.

Coz every moment hurts,

Every movement hurts,

Every moment, 

It hurts.

We go beyond the dreams,

And our own pains.

We have to find a way,

To look beyond the gains.

Where do we draw the line,

Between wrong and right.

They taught us about peace,

Yet they told us to fight.

So now look,

Within your heart,

For the answers,

You search.

Coz every moment hurts,

Every movement hurts,

Every moment, 

It hurts.

Stranger.

You stumble into a room,

With a drink in your hand.

You see someone in the centre,

And you just don't understand.

He's singing for the circus,

And you wonder who it is.

So you just sit there thinking,

What is it that you missed.

Coz something's happening here,

And you have no idea,

What it is. 

Do you? Stranger,

In the town.

So you turn in your ticket,

And you sit down for the show.

But it all seems strange to you,

And there's nothing that you know.

So you sit there all alone,

And you're feeling like a freak.

Oh you have so many questions,

But you can barely speak.

Its coz something's happening here,

And you have no idea,

What it is. 

Do you? Stranger,

In the town.

Someone walked up to you,

And handed you a case.

You reached out with a question,

You thought you knew his face.

You opened what he gave you,

And it contains what you seek.

But even then you wonder,

Why you are still the freak.

Its coz something's happening here,

And you have no idea,

What it is. 

Do you? Stranger,

In the town.

Fame.

Now I'm hearing voices,

And there's no one around.

The world is getting empty,
And the grass has gone brown.

Maybe I'm just lonely,

Or sad that no one's heard.

I think thats the problem,

No one knows me in the world.

I need to make my way,

Tell the world my name.

Need to make my voice heard,

Reach out for the fame.

I will cross the hurdles,

And climb the steep incline.

And I will be remembered,

Long after my time.

The winds are getting weaker,

And breeze hardly breathes.

And the sun keeps getting darker,

There's no life in the leaves.

My world gets partly cloudy,

My judgement seems so wrong.

Now I sit and wonder,

The meaning of this song.

I need to make my way,

Tell the world my name.

Need to make my voice heard,

Reach out for the fame.

I will cross the hurdles,

And climb the steep incline.

And I will be remembered,

Long after my time.

Night.

Oh I sat in silence,

The night so quiet.

Isn't it funny,

How it chooses to riot.

It plays with your head,

And toys with your mind.

You search in the dark,

And there's nothing to find.

Oh don't you give me,

Any more of what I had.

I thought I was happy,

What makes me so sad.

Its the world that is broken,

I'm the only one right.

Why am I so empty,

Like the darkness in night.

Oh, I sit here alone,

With my knees 'round my head.

If you could see me,

You'd think I was dead.

But all I was hoping,

Was that I'd make a choice.

Hear myself speak,

Over all of this noise.

Oh don't you give me,

Any more of what I had.

I thought I was happy,

What makes me so sad.

Its the world that is broken,

I'm the only one right.

Why am I so empty,

Like the darkness in night.

What was it I smoked,

And the drinks that I had.

Or maybe it was both,

That is driving me mad.

How I wish for the silence,

For the noises to die.

So I can lay my head down,

Just rest some and cry.

Oh don't you give me,

Any more of what I had.

I thought I was happy,

What makes me so sad.

Its the world that is broken,

I'm the only one right.

Why am I so empty,

Like the darkness in night.

Madman.

There's a man by my window,
Said he wanted the world.

I thought that he was crazy,
And I might have misheard.

He said was willing,
To pay any price.

As long as he saw,
Every ray of sunrise.

Oh who am I to tell him,
That it cannot be done.
After all I have taken,
And all I have won.
Maybe he's crazy,
But I think he has a plan,
I'm beginning to wonder,
Which one is the Madman.

So I walked down the hallway,
And made for my car.

The man said he wanted,
A piece of a star.

I thought maybe this time,
He must surely be mad.

But he asked what he wanted,
So he wont be so sad.

Oh who am I to tell him,
That it cannot be done.
After all I have taken,
And all I have won.
Maybe he's crazy,
But I think he has a plan,
I'm beginning to wonder,
Which one is the Madman.

So I turned the key,
And I drove down the road.

The night she was biting,
Freezing and cold.

And the man sat beside me,
I didn't believe my eyes.

This time he told me,
He wanted the skies.

Oh who am I to tell him,
That it cannot be done.
After all I have taken,
And all I have won.
Maybe he's crazy,
But I think he has a plan,
I'm beginning to wonder,
Which one is the Madman.

Rum N' Coke.

Oh, I was walking in circles,

All way round the clock.

I never sang when lonely,

Oh I would rarely talk.

The rainman walked up to me,

Said he had something to tell.

He said he'd heard about me,

He said he knew me well.

Oh, he handed me a bottle,

As slowly as he spoke.

He mixed it up with something,

And he called it Rum n Coke.

So someone hand me this way,
My last and final smoke.
And bring me two long glasses,
For my daily Rum n Coke.

I went back to the rain main,

And he gave me two medicine.

One was dark as timber,
The other some country gin.

Like a fool I mixed them,
And it strangled up my mind.

And now people just get hazy,
And I have no sense of time.

Oh, he handed me a bottle,

As slowly as he spoke.

He mixed it up with something,

And he called it Rum n Coke.

So someone hand me this way,
My last and final smoke.
And bring me two long glasses,
For my daily Rum n Coke.

The world was spinning under,

And I could barely stand.

That when I wondered,

What I held in my hand.

The Rain Man's darkened cures,

And what he said was fine.

I should have paid attention,

But it tasted so divine.

Oh, he handed me a bottle,

As slowly as he spoke.

He mixed it up with something,

And he called it Rum n Coke.

So someone hand me this way,
My last and final smoke.
And bring me two long glasses,
For my daily Rum n Coke.

P.S.> Someone wondered who the rain-main was. As per lore, rainman refers to red-indian shamans, the Rainmakers, in this the Rain Man is someone who got me hooked to Rum and Coke; Puneet. I'm sure, you have your own Rain Man.

Let me sleep.

You can see the cyclone turning,

In my head.

You said you would save me somehow,

But I was dead.

Foreign natures drag me down,

In my mind.

And now my eyes can see the crown,

Of bright sunshine.

So tie a black cloak,

On my eyes.

So I can sleep tonight,

Inspite what I'd done today.

I'll find you burning,

In the fire.

And I can sleep tonight,

Knowing I have won today.

Right down the road the world is,

Breaking down.

Somewhere on the way survivors,

I had found.

I keep on telling you that I,

Need a break.

And now I'm sleeping when the sun,

Is wide awake.

So tie a black cloak,

On my eyes.

So I can sleep tonight,

Inspite what I'd done today.

I'll find you burning,

In the fire.

And I can sleep tonight,

Knowing I have won today.

Can someone save me,

Just this time,

So I can sleep today.

Or find me guilty,

Of my crime.

Just let me sleep this day.

Just let me sleep today.

I Don't Vote.

" Everybody complains about politicians. Everybody says, "They suck". But where do people think these politicians come from? They don't fall out of the sky. They don't pass through a membrane from another reality. No, they come from Indian homes, Indian families, Indian schools, Indian jails, Indian businesses, and they're elected by Indian voters. This is the best we can do, folks. It's what our system produces: Garbage in, garbage out. 

If you have selfish, ignorant citizens, you're going to get selfish, ignorant leaders. Term limits ain't going to do any good; you're just going to end up with a brand new bunch of selfish, ignorant Indians. So, maybe, maybe, maybe, it's not the politicians who suck. Maybe something else sucks around here… like, the public. Yeah, the public sucks. There's a nice campaign slogan for somebody: 'The Public Sucks.'

I have solved this political dilemma in a very direct way: On Election Day, I stay home. I don't vote. Two reasons. First of all it's meaningless; this country was bought and sold a long time ago. The shit they shovel around every 4 years *pfff* doesn't mean a fucking thing. 

And secondly, I firmly believe that if you vote, you have no right to complain. Now, some people like to twist that around. They say, "If you don't vote, you have no right to complain", but where's the logic in that? If you vote, and you elect dishonest, incompetent politicians, and they get into office and screw everything up, you are responsible for what they have done. You voted them in. You caused the problem. You have no right to complain.

I, on the other hand, who did not vote -- who did not even leave the house on Election Day -- am in no way responsible for what these politicians have done and have every right to complain about the mess that YOU created. "

-- George Dennis Carlin, 1996, Back in Town. 

Why am I posting this? Election Day for us is right around the corner and everyday someone is coming up to me and asking if I'm voting, and everytime I recreate this piece of art for them, or as much as I can remember. Then I leave them searching for a quick comeback.

So this one goes out to all those dumb-fucks who keep pressing me to vote. I don't want to vote!! I dont give a shit, and neither should you. It's a wasted effort until some of those helpful, selfless, clean and honest people who are apparently in this god forsaken country, stand up to take the seat. If I ever vote, I'm not going to vote on some farce and false promises, I'll vote for the government that gets the job done, and more than anything gives a fuck about the public. So the next time you feel like defending your "Right to Vote", your right to "Create change, be someone, own something" you better realise that all of this is a lie. You don't own shit, and neither do the politicians!!

The real owners are the big wealthy business interests that control things and make all the important decisions. Forget the politicians, they're an irrelevancy. The politicians are put there to give you the idea that you have freedom of choice. You don't. You have no choice. You have owners. They own you. They own everything. They own all the important land. They own and control the corporations. They've long since bought and paid for the Parliament, the Political parties, the courts, the municipality. They've got the judges in their back pockets. And they own all the big media companies, so that they control just about all of the news and information you hear. They've got you by the balls. They spend crores of rupees every year fighting – fighting to get what they want. Well, we know what they want; they want more for themselves and less for everybody else.

And I'll tell you what they don't want. They don't want a population of citizens capable of critical thinking. They don't want well-informed, well-educated people capable of critical thinking. They're not interested in that. That doesn't help them. That's against their interests. They don't want people who are smart enough to sit around the kitchen table and figure out how badly they're getting fucked by a system that threw them overboard 52 fucking years ago. You know what they want? Obedient workers – people who are just smart enough to run the machines and do the paperwork but just dumb enough to passively accept all these increasingly shittier jobs with the lower pay, the longer hours, reduced benefits, the end of overtime and the vanishing pension that disappears the minute you go to collect it. And, now, they're coming for your Long-term Investments. They want your fucking retirement money. They want it back, so they can give it to their criminal friends on Dalal Street. And you know something? They'll get it. They'll get it all, sooner or later, because they own this fucking place. It's a big club, and you ain't in it. You and I are not in the big club.

Home.

I'm on my way,

To nowhere.

And I need to find some sign.

Walking around,

On these two feet.

And nothing's on my mind.

I'm wandering,

Into far off worlds.

I think I'm too far gone..

I'll find a way,

To call you maybe.

Tell you what I've found.

Moving around,

On broken wings,

My heart is where I go.

Searching for that lonely place,

Somehow I will know.

This is home.

This is home.

This is home.

I'm trying to,

Reach a restful place.

And sleep away my years.

I hope to find,

Somebody there.

Whose mind thinks like mine.

Maybe when I,

Reach that land.

I come back to take you there.

Maybe it seems,

I'm searching too hard.

Maybe I'm already here.

Moving around,

On broken wings,

My heart is where I go.

Searching for that lonely place,

Somehow I will know.

This is home.

This is home.

This is home.

The streets my own,

That restul baritone,

Maybe this is it for me,

This is where I belong.

This is home.

Saving the planet.

This here is George Carlin's monologue on the environment. I agree with him somewhat, he had a unique way of putting things into perspective.

R.I.P. George. I'm sure you're looking up at us and laughing.

We're so self-important. So self-important. Everybody's going to save something now. "Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save those snails." And the greatest arrogance of all: save the planet. What? Are these fucking people kidding me? Save the planet, we don't even know how to take care of ourselves yet. We haven't learned how to care for one another, we're gonna save the fucking planet?

I'm getting tired of that shit. Tired of that shit. I'm tired of fucking Earth Day, I'm tired of these self-righteous environmentalists, these white, bourgeois liberals who think the only thing wrong with this country is there aren't enough bicycle paths. People trying to make the world save for their Volvos. Besides, environmentalists don't give a shit about the planet. They don't care about the planet. Not in the abstract they don't. Not in the abstract they don't. You know what they're interested in? A clean place to live. Their own habitat. They're worried that some day in the future, they might be personally inconvenienced. Narrow, unenlightened self-interest doesn't impress me.

Besides, there is nothing wrong with the planet. Nothing wrong with the planet. The planet is fine. The PEOPLE are fucked. Difference. Difference. The planet is fine. Compared to the people, the planet is doing great. Been here four and a half billion years. Did you ever think about the arithmetic? The planet has been here four and a half billion years. We've been here, what, a hundred thousand? Maybe two hundred thousand? And we've only been engaged in heavy industry for a little over two hundred years. Two hundred years versus four and a half billion. And we have the CONCEIT to think that somehow we're a threat? That somehow we're gonna put in jeopardy this beautiful little blue-green ball that's just a-floatin' around the sun?

The planet has been through a lot worse than us. Been through all kinds of things worse than us. Been through earthquakes, volcanoes, plate tectonics, continental drift, solar flares, sun spots, magnetic storms, the magnetic reversal of the poles...hundreds of thousands of years of bombardment by comets and asteroids and meteors, worlwide floods, tidal waves, worldwide fires, erosion, cosmic rays, recurring ice ages...And we think some plastic bags, and some aluminum cans are going to make a difference? The planet...the planet...the planet isn't going anywhere. WE ARE!

We're going away. Pack your shit, folks. We're going away. And we won't leave much of a trace, either. Thank God for that. Maybe a little styrofoam. Maybe. A little styrofoam. The planet'll be here and we'll be long gone. Just another failed mutation. Just another closed-end biological mistake. An evolutionary cul-de-sac. The planet'll shake us off like a bad case of fleas. A surface nuisance.

You wanna know how the planet's doing? Ask those people at Pompeii, who are frozen into position from volcanic ash, how the planet's doing. You wanna know if the planet's all right, ask those people in Mexico City or Armenia or a hundred other places buried under thousands of tons of earthquake rubble, if they feel like a threat to the planet this week. Or how about those people in Kilowaia, Hawaii, who built their homes right next to an active volcano, and then wonder why they have lava in the living room.

The planet will be here for a long, long, LONG time after we're gone, and it will heal itself, it will cleanse itself, 'cause that's what it does. It's a self-correcting system. The air and the water will recover, the earth will be renewed, and if it's true that plastic is not degradable, well, the planet will simply incorporate plastic into a new pardigm: the earth plus plastic. The earth doesn't share our prejudice towards plastic. Plastic came out of the earth. The earth probably sees plastic as just another one of its children. Could be the only reason the earth allowed us to be spawned from it in the first place. It wanted plastic for itself. Didn't know how to make it. Needed us. Could be the answer to our age-old egocentric philosophical question, "Why are we here?" Plastic...asshole.

So, the plastic is here, our job is done, we can be phased out now. And I think that's begun. Don't you think that's already started? I think, to be fair, the planet sees us as a mild threat. Something to be dealt with. And the planet can defend itself in an organized, collective way, the way a beehive or an ant colony can. A collective defense mechanism. The planet will think of something. What would you do if you were the planet? How would you defend yourself against this troublesome, pesky species? Let's see... Viruses. Viruses might be good. They seem vulnerable to viruses. And, uh...viruses are tricky, always mutating and forming new strains whenever a vaccine is developed. Perhaps, this first virus could be one that compromises the immune system of these creatures. Perhaps a human immunodeficiency virus, making them vulnerable to all sorts of other diseases and infections that might come along. And maybe it could be spread sexually, making them a little reluctant to engage in the act of reproduction.

Well, that's a poetic note. And it's a start. And I can dream, can't I? See I don't worry about the little things: bees, trees, whales, snails. I think we're part of a greater wisdom than we will ever understand. A higher order. Call it what you want. Know what I call it? The Big Electron. The Big Electron...whoooa. Whoooa. Whoooa. It doesn't punish, it doesn't reward, it doesn't judge at all. It just is. And so are we. For a little while."

Fight to Win.

Can we this time,

Fight on the same side.

Try to stand together,

Fighting side by side.

But we dont know,

What we stand for.

And we wonder,

Where we came from.

But this time,

Help win this fight.

Moving on,

Spinning around,

To a broken song.

Moving on.

Heaven knows,

Where I belong.

And I am,

Untouchable.

Maybe I'm the,

One you seek.

I could be,

The hero now.

I will help you out,

Somehow.

But this time,

Help win this fight.

Moving on,

Spinning around,

To a broken song.

Moving on.

Heaven knows,

Where I belong.

Reaching out,

For any weapon you find.

But I can win,

On the strength of my mind.

The world gets stronger,

If you start crying.

Turn around a face them,

Then you could be flying.

I want you with me,

No one else by my side.

Even if we lose now,

They'll know we tried,

You know we tried,

You know I tried.

Choices I Make.

So many choices,

To choose from.

Too many which,

I can't see.

And at moments,

I feel alive.

Beyond the oceans,

I see.

I can only live,

When I'm young.

I'm only free,

This once.

I'm going this way alone.

Maybe this is the way,

For me.

There's only one way,

Im going.

But there's two paths,

For me.

If my heart leads me,

This way.

Then which way,

Am I free.

I can only live,

When I'm young.

I'm only free,

This once.

I'm going this way alone.

Maybe this is the way,

For me.

And now my life,

Leads the way.

Somehow I made it,

Through another day.

Maybe I chose right,

After all.

Maybe this was,

Destiny's call.

Now I can live,

Im finally free.

I'm young,

And I'll go on.

I found my path,

I made my way.

This is the road for me.

P.S.> This song reflects my mind right now. In respect to the problems and questions I face as mentioned in the earlier post. I hope I manage to make the right choice.

Fear of the Dark.

Change. 

Have I written about this already? I'm not sure. But I feel this fear coming onto me as I stand at a crossroads in life. On one hand, a chapter of my life is coming to an end, again. On the other, a whole new chapter is probably going to open up. At this point, the question that's crossing my mind every now and then is; what comes next?

Every human being has a fear of the unknown. And it is our ability to choose what we do when faced with it, is what defines us. We can choose to march confidently into the unknown or we can extend it, escape it, avoid it as long as we don't have to accept it. I'm worried about what choice do I make. I know I must accept it, for me the unknown holds my future. And like the great Morisson said, the future's not set and the end is always near. 

In this situation the end is within sight, a mere turn of the corner away, and I stand here perplexed and afraid of whats around that proverbial corner of my life. Maybe I'm stupid. Maybe I'm just blind. Maybe, just maybe, I want to turn around and run. But there is a simple truth that I must face. Whatever is around that corner, will come back to some time or the other. I will after some time be standing at a new crossroads of life, and I'll have to take another turn. How many times can I avoid this change? How long will I keep trying to escape the unknown?

Even now, as I write this, I know the decision I have to make. Till now I've prided myself on being a logical and straight-forward human being. All my thinking and logic should make this choice easy, but then why do I hesitate? Why can't I accept this change like many people around me have? Is it instinct? Because at some level I can sense what is going to happen. Is it fear? Because I know I'm afraid of it. Or maybe, its just plain stupidity! I'd feel happier if this was the case. But its not.

I cannot explain why I'm trying to avoid this change that I should accept. The closest I can come to is the one explanation that doesn't really make me feel better. I am afraid of the unknown. But, unless I face it, I will never know if I'm strong enough. Unless I charge into the unknown I will never realise what it is, what it means to my life and what it means to me. In the end, I realise that everything in life changes. I have gone through these changes before, I've marched into the dark unknown, and I must do it again, like millions before me.

There is a time to make a decision and stand by it. I made my decision, now I must find the strength to stand by it. Everything changes, its time I did too.

Quote: They say there is no such thing as a free lunch. 

They also say, that the best things in life are free.

Ergo, lunch is not one of the best things in life.

Amazing how relativity comes around and bites you in the ass, eh?

In The Name of...

First came love,

And words of god.

Then we tried,

To live our lives.

And we found,

That it was lost.

So we warred,

In his holy names.

Somehow to help,

With all our pain.

Looking out,

For personal gains.

Now this world,

Don't mean a thing.

There's just one word,

That I believe.

Now there's nothing,

Left to show.

Just one word,

No one,

Seems to know.

Then we searched,

In foreign lands.

For strength,

In fallen hands.

Said we're building,

Them a life.

We're saving them,

From strife.

Now its slipping,

Through our fists.

Yet we fight,

Those who resist.

Now this world,

Don't mean a thing.

There's just one word,

That I believe.

Now there's nothing,

Left to show.

Just one word,

No one,

Seems to know.

We say we're winning,

In this war.

Yet the ending,

Seems so far.

Why do our leaders,

Stand so tall.

Innocent men,

Around him fall.

Now this world,

Don't mean a thing.

There's just one word,

That I believe.

Now there's nothing,

Left to show.

Just one word,

No one,

Seems to know.

Nothing.

Nothing left,

To take apart.

Nothing in,

A broken heart.

Nothing done,

And complete again.

Nothing gained,

All in vain.

Nothing keeps me strong,

Nothing weak,

Not anymore.

If nothing's here for me,

Why can't I see,

How I am,

Where to go.

Why does it,

Feel like home.

Why don't I feel,

Completely alone.

Nothing here,

To talk about.

Nothing now,

To walk upon.

Nothing will,

Raise a doubt.

Nothing can,

Hear the song.

Nothing here alive.

Nothing now,

To look for.

If nothing's here for me,

Why can't I see,

How I am,

Where to go.

Why does it,

Feel like home.

Why don't I feel,

Completely alone.

Broken voices,

Steady breath.

Shadow's sleep,

Dreams forget.

Driving deep,

In solitude.

Living on,

With gratitude.

If nothing's here for me,

Why can't I see,

How I am,

Where to go.

Why does it,

Feel like home.

Why don't I feel,

Completely alone.

Brothers-In-Arms.

All at ease,
All are known.

Empty bottles,
In a full room.

Friendly faces,
Guitar strings.

Someone lost,
In deep conversation.

You are my brothers,
My friends,
The memories,
Will stand by me.
You call me brother,
All my friends,
Their memories,
Will stand by me.

We speak
And laugh.

Behold the dream,
Stand and stare.

Looking through,
A magic glass.

Of where we were,
And where we go.

You are my brothers,
My friends,
The memories,
Will stand by me.
You call me brother,
All my friends,
Their memories,
Will stand by me.

We all sing aloud,
They try to understand us.
Try to make some sense,
What's around,
Where we go,
Who we are,
What we do.

You are my brothers,
My friends,
The memories,
Will stand by me.
You call me brother,
All my friends,
Their memories,
Will stand by me.




P.S.> If this song makes no sense, I understand. I'm slightly drunk, and this song goes out to the people who got me here (this drunken state). My friends, my brothers in arms, my band-mates. This one is to the memories and times we have had and will continue surviving. Thanks.