Hold them foremost.
Your hands, your wands, your pens.
Be it whatever may.
Shadow the hypocrites.
Show them the least of pity-I plead you.
The sun has vanished long before.
The light we hold now, be not the aura of god.
We are all children of the devil now.
Trapped in a game of reality and fiction.
Fools who do not comply, are fools.
Only to the many, for they are the few.
It is their hands that are raised.
Their tears that matter. Their hearts – for they are still pure.
Unbridled with guilt, greed and blood and power.
Release your prayers for them.
Join them as they mourn the death of humanity, the death of nature and the death of god.
For I too am no longer with the living or the dead.
I remain forever, with the fools.
Saqif Maqsud is an admirer of words that twists and bends the subconscious. Devoted to Tagore from an early age, he is an avid fan of literature that reserves multiple interpretations. Occasionally, Saqif tends to dive into the world beyond, only to dabble in dark literature momentarily. He also prefers vinyl over digital music.