Bored of being Gentleman

Since that moment, I felt I am an human, 

I acted like that…..

Day and night I pursued all duties,

All morals, all tradition.

Which I loved, which I obeyed,

Some of those were hanged on back.

But today I feel bored, of being not that suits…

To current scenario of behaving,

Of  working,

Of admiring,

And of punishing.

Here I lost those I taught in school,

Those I learner in college,

The idealism…. 

Now don’t work here,

It’s been paralyze…. Paralyze my goodwills.

I stuck between humanity and human…

Who was those people, who had written these impractical theories…

I found wrong..

Perhaps…. From the long time

I have been hidden inside the layers of these papers of idealism, which stand false.

I am bored of being gentleman,

Let me unlock my own,

The Human…..so called animal species.

Let me unlock this,

Let it come out and let it roar….

I admit the virtue of almighty,

But,

Their rules never proves their charm here….

I am a resident of India…

The land of God’s..

People say and relates,

Everything said and written here,

Are words of God…

But they amit not follow,

Sayings turned only sayings…

And they proven to be wrong.

And now myths have brain.. to modify and to sweat under the rain..

Idealism have no meaning here, showcase opens where…

I bored been a gentleman…

Want to unlock the animal’s chain…

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Madness of Mind…

Madness

Being a fun of my Hands,

Love dwelling into my Nails.

Scratching my Heart,

That I love her, Apart

Truth of my Veins,

Stops  me to Rain.

That I love Her.
I being a Beggar,

Only can ask to Me.

Why? Why to ruin?

Myself me and into Me.

A story tough to Narrate.

A mystery revealed to Forget,

That I love Her.
Traditions tampered my Face,

My money but,

No rights to Case.
It deemed by my Own,

Nartured to Grow.

Into my Chest,

To pasteurized my Face.

But I looked Dull, 

Because of this Preamble.

That I have to leave this Society,

So that I love Her.
I was bound to Admit,

That I have to summit,

Me, my ego and Her.

To the brutality of Them,

To be punished of Nothing,

Done upto Wrong.

I scared of Them,

Can you understand my Pain.
When I torcherd  by Me,

Then what picture of Hers.
So, I became fun of my Own.

To scratch walls of Heart.

Developed or less-developed

One lonely night,

By my own,

 I answered and murdered by my own.

I cheated myself on the myths of,

Being developed,

From ancients to formers.

Being wild to deputed,

I travelled so far, that

When I look after forgottens,

I laugh and admire my success..

But, is that much true…. What I thought?

I proudly said yes!I am.

A small finger point at me,

Trough the bottom of my heart and,

I dismissed it’s hearing.

That is what I am doing from a long time.

I know that, somewhere somewhat I am cheating on me….

I modified the definition of being developed,

I replaced the word as I convenient.

To hide the truths behind the myths.

I pretended several times with a smile on my face…

Admitting that what I am doing is the only trend.

I refused to mess with presence,

I stop even to understand the differences,

Between being developed and undeveloped,

Because,

I changed the meanings of both words.

Development measures the physical state of our life style not that was related to intellectual.

Undeveloped means only being not earning much to satisfy desired life style.

Is it not so?

I admitted yes!

Money is first and last thing to do with all others.

Perhaps! I am right but my heart rebel brain.

It still points a finger….

That I lacking the development of 

State of my mind,

I still behind to except the changes,

Related to socialism, religion and morality.

And it’s true… when I talks about these I fell stuck….

And my heart runs away from my brain… Being developed to less developed…

Ink Abuse

Long ago in history,

Paper read to cover mistry.

To recollect the intellectuals of minds,

Which worked towards the innovation.

Of mankind,

Of humanity,

Of livingness,

Of scientific approaches,

Of bitterness which they faced and

They declared them paths,

Of  loneliness to completeness,

To illiterate to educated.

That was a glory of ink,

Which severed the innovations and mankind….

Aah! Today ink abuses,

In the era of vast knowledge,

And expertise.

From deeper to Galaxy.

The ink abuses…. To the mankind

To humanity, to morals to ethics.

All lost into the drains,

Of educated illiterates.

It lost its ways of eagerness,

It terms a circumference of no ways.

Moulding the same ways of positiveness, 

Into the wrong ways which they dropped,  after experience.

The ink abuses….. Where we are walking,

To whom we are talking,

Blaming other of own failure,

Dragging other for success.

Is that what our old ink taught us??

Is that what our history led us??

Now ink abuses….

Writers write to be popular,

Anything wright or wrong, people blindly troll them..

For business or fooling themselves…

…… Now ink abuses…..

Hiding facts and spreed myths,

It became the reality beneath..

And it’s obvious to she because 

Every one wants to enjoy,

Others guild, other myths..

Bitter taste unhealthy for heart,

And wrong medicines lead you apart…

Facts are known but we still unknown.

Because ink abuses….

Ink abuses…..

The Death Ends Here…

Soon after sun shine,

my heart blames the Night.

For not being so sticky,

That day couldn’t broom.

Laziness abandoned my Iris,

To be flourish through eyelids.

Oh! My God…  Not again,

Same Day…. Same work… Same tiredness.

I am so fed up with it.

Wanna ring some change,

Aah! But what?

What makes my days better?

What actually not being bad?

Oh!………..

Day dried up, time to go office,

Let me think….. Will there be change?

No….At all.

Let me try again…

This is what ‘Not Again’.