BY SWATHI GURRAMPATI
On this extraordinary, dying planet
In a dark den, under a lightning lamp
I learn the poor, pathetic past
Of dark ages, of wars, of plagues
Of famine and starvation.
As if I have nothing to learn
About the present chaos on this exhausted earth.
What change can I seek, even with my binoculars on!?
Same old cruel customs
Same old arrogant authorities
Same old ignorant egos.
In a dilemma to choose—
Funny I find, this doomed destiny
For making me learn these centuries of wild past
To pass on for a fictitious future
While the tame present is dying.
Funny I find, these immature apes
Killing each other, slaughtering other kinds
Murdering the innocent, destroying nature
All for the victory of one man's ego.
"Rome was not built in a day,"
They teach wisdom—
Yet, decades of hardship
Being blasted in a blink
Drowning the centuries of history in blood
Leaving barren lands to the next—
Dust to breathe. Dirt to eat.
Funny I find, this unexercised wisdom.
Crops corrupted, mountains melted
Lands replaced by estates and villas
Rivers polluted in the name of innovation
Forests burned under the guise of advancement—
Funny I find, when I imagine food on my future plate
Funny I find them, passing on their prized property to my pale skeleton.
"Everything is pre-destined,"
Preaches the great religious men—
If so, then what hope drives me to live on
In this barbarous, divided, chaotic world!?
That these so-called elderly intellectuals passed on—
Funny I find, this predestined destiny by these human gods.
Fame they aim, fashion their passion.
Stars of the screen, with dignity as their makeup—
Beneath lies their ignorance and irresponsibility.
Role models they all desire to be—
Yet, they promote poison and pollution to their admirers
Advertising the reel term—
Hypocrisy, the real term is.
What inspiration do I seek from them!?
Madness or meaninglessness!?
Funny I find, when my mind shuts out the light
Screening the absurdity of my living life.
What sense does it make—
Dilemma or destiny!?