Lost Angels

P.C. Tasneem Pardiwalla

Hey, you! Yes, I am talking to you!
Lying there in mindless abandon
On your fluffy bed of clouds.
Looking down your snotty little noses
Untouched by the fate that devours us.
But, look! See us for who we really are.
A case in contradictions, a paradox of existence.
Grounded by our realities, shackled by moralities;
Suffering through pleasures and writhing in pain;
Fighting our inner demons in a struggle to remain sane.
There you have it, the two of us-
Bound by evolution to grow together
Yet, you judge us for things you don’t know,
And we blame you for the things we do.
O you, extra-terrestrial!
The silent spectator of the suicides of our dreams,
Fine tune your focus, stop seeing from a macroscopic view.
We burn in a hell with no one to condemn but ourselves.
Born to be free, yet caged eternally in a frame not of our choosing.
The things we feel aren’t always what we think we should,
A study in duality, we find good in bad and the bad in good.
You say that we must refine, be tempered by our fires
Of love, of hate and everything in between.
For it’s only a hollow wood that would play the music of the Divine.
The coal must shed its cloak of darkness to emerge as shiny priceless diamond.
But I ask you, how would you know it’s true?
Maybe we were meant to agonize the way we always do!
You were once humans too.


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