THE ANTHEM OF THE SINNERS

We’re all born sinners.

All sinners go to Hell.

So how does it matter what we do?

Take a life,

Spare one,

Create one-

It just doesn’t matter any longer.

We’re all born sinners.

All sinners go to hell.

Yes, you heard me right.

I met Satan, Lucifer too actually.

They taught me the art of warfare.

The art to kill

The precise skill to take a life and enjoy it

It really is an ordinary job.

Everyone is eligible.

That’s why they recruited for the war,

Snatching away the youth and time

From the hearts of the living

And trust me,

They have a strict no discrimination policy.

It is really not all that bad

You get to steal the lives of your enemies-

You get paid for that too.

‘It’s the best job I ever had’

And they’re not joking around.

They play with guns and dance to

The music of the shattering shells,

On a dance floor of shattered skulls and bones.

They dance with death.

And those who he rejects return,

Scarred for life,

Alive on the fringes of society like starving wolves

Always craving for another drop of human blood.

But it is alright.

We’re all born sinners.

All sinners go to Hell.

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BLEED

A language is a living organism.

It sheds old words

Every hour, every day, every second, every year.

It sheds words-

Old, unwanted and irrelevant;

And it adopts and absorbs new word,

Each mouth inventing its own word,

Starting its advance from the day the infant was born.

Each word is a declaration of war-

For land, power, hunger, water-

It is a war for the world

Words created this world and they will shatter it.

A language is a living organism.

Words are its blood.

The very thing that brought it to life will cause its death.

It grows, it evolves, it dies, it fights, it struggles-

A language is a living organism.

A language is the thread of society.

Words are its threads and punctuations are its stitches.

A living organism is a language.

A language is I.

WORDS UNSPOKEN

Words, you speak,

Are sounds escaping your lips.

They mean nothing.

Words that sounds different,

Accents of glamor, roughness, ice and warmth.

Each word lingers, carrying forward the accents of another world-

“a collection of words is a language”

Each language holds its own mother religion captive

Each language holds its own culture

Each language holds its own history

Each language holds me.

They mean nothing to me

Words are the threads of society,

The glue that holds it together

The thread that makes unmasked faces dance like puppets

Words are the command for the puppets

The one who speaks these words is the ultimate puppeteer.

The words you speak,

They mean nothing to me.