I don’t know what this silence is about,
I don’t know what this war is about,
the cold coding of human race, the victims are chosen from all the ages,
they hunt them down on the road
with taxes and politics
they shape their hearts and mind
code them with hate and emotionless hearts
and hand them AK47 and RPGs and
load them with sugar coated silent killer bullets,
fancy curved flatscreens show beauty trapped on the curves of her skin
with emerald rings and rosy red lips,
girls tries all the hacks and all the tricks to get that perfect hair and style, poor girls, unaware that there a million products and million lights with a professional shots and editing, “perfection” has come out in those screens and magazines,
and boys are projected to have their handsome defined by showcasing their shaped shoulders and abs, man-buns and cigarettes and bikes,
little boys are lured by toy cars, and helicopters, bikes, they get gel on their hair to get that perfect lift of hair and get this flawless spikes, and jet black emo hairs and that perfect height and perfect bodies
they trap realities in the depth of there minds, throw them on the subcouncoisous, or worst, froze them in the iceberg of their unconscious.
Social media hits them down with the likes, follows and the tags
trolls are already trolling them and queuing them up in this pattern,
diving them into this wind which is slowly whirling into a tornado
killing innocence, values, sanity, emotions and peace
The leaders are ours but they aren’t really for us
they are eating dollars and diamonds for breakfast,
men and women have forgotten the fun,they censor their want for comfort and calm and they rush out at 8 in the morning with few sips of coffee and tea and articles of the daily tribune about wars and stocks and glossy parts of page3
has become the talk on the coffee tables, office cabins, metro rides and even randomly on the streets
the kids play in the concrete jungles,
where they are preyed upon by the cruel adults,
the parents censor them from the real world and shut them inside the room of their imaginations for as long as they can, for parents breaking hearts aren’t capable to hide them away from the animals of this man made bomb
the bomb is ticking, minute by minute, seconds by seconds, can you hear it?
its taking away our happiness, its swallowing away our freedom,
the men in black tuxedoes and black expensive cars will take your money and the men on the roads will take your life
what future are we creating? what growth are we processing? are we really free? Are we really moving forward?
This is the silence before the coming of the storm,
this is the silence before the big bang
the silence is the answer.

Published by Aakriti Singh