Yesterday morning,
As I opened my store,
I heard many voices galore,
A storm gathered at the square,
I closed the shop and went to hear.
They were protesting against the man,
Who called himself the king,
But in reality, he was Satan’s true offspring.
And let me tell you..
The time we were there,
Was not a blissful one,
As the government crushed love and humanity,
Shred by shred, ounce by ounce,
The people struggled as one,
And protested together under the jealous light of sun,
Hoping of a day for freedom to arrive,
And also prayed for love to survive.
The torments that I vaguely remember,
Were not the physical ones,
They were the ones that were bestowed on us,
By the so-called prodigal son,
Who thought he can rule,
With a throne made of flesh and bones,
And skins of the dead as his cloak,
He’ll be the giant king of the small people,
Whose mere existence was a poison oak.
As I was standing at that square,
With the angels of suffering and pain,
I saw people...breathing with a struggle,
As every breath of theirs was taxing itself,
And then suddenly something happened to me.
I shouted, I screamed, I protested,
With every ounce of energy in me vested,
By the almighty one who lived above,
Maybe a sadist for souls below,
I didn’t knew what I was doing,
But a passion emerged,
And I started pursuing,
Then the army arrived.
They came and started hurting,
But no one ran away,
And all the fears were lost,
Like a needle in the hay,
The bullets departed from the bodies,
With bloody raindrops,
And people with open wounds crawled,
Like they were looking for repair shops,
But some others were taken by them,
‘Cause it was impossible to make them stop.
And with raging fires in our heart,
We stood before them,
Against a tyranny long and wide,
That walked with vanity,
An empire, senile and full of insanity,
Marching down the road,
Like a rising tide,
As they kept all the humanity aside,
That is when they caught us.
We still screamed, shouted,
But with our eyes,
Our every hope became clouded,
As we were bound by the darkest,
Force for us there can ever be,
A hell on earth anyone can ever see.
I was taken to the place they called prison,
Where innocents rotted,
Without any reason,
And I was there with every other person,
Who knew that something miraculous brewed,
Beneath the hearts that were sewed,
Together… with a belief of hopeful future,
A future with freedom as their new ruler.
Yesterday morning,
When I opened my store,
I didn’t knew that,
Fate was also opening a door,
For a place that I will never forget,
A place without any sorrow or regret,
My own VALHALLA in the midst of hell,
Where forever my heart will dwell.
Ishan Trivedi
As I opened my store,
I heard many voices galore,
A storm gathered at the square,
I closed the shop and went to hear.
They were protesting against the man,
Who called himself the king,
But in reality, he was Satan’s true offspring.
And let me tell you..
The time we were there,
Was not a blissful one,
As the government crushed love and humanity,
Shred by shred, ounce by ounce,
The people struggled as one,
And protested together under the jealous light of sun,
Hoping of a day for freedom to arrive,
And also prayed for love to survive.
The torments that I vaguely remember,
Were not the physical ones,
They were the ones that were bestowed on us,
By the so-called prodigal son,
Who thought he can rule,
With a throne made of flesh and bones,
And skins of the dead as his cloak,
He’ll be the giant king of the small people,
Whose mere existence was a poison oak.
As I was standing at that square,
With the angels of suffering and pain,
I saw people...breathing with a struggle,
As every breath of theirs was taxing itself,
And then suddenly something happened to me.
I shouted, I screamed, I protested,
With every ounce of energy in me vested,
By the almighty one who lived above,
Maybe a sadist for souls below,
I didn’t knew what I was doing,
But a passion emerged,
And I started pursuing,
Then the army arrived.
They came and started hurting,
But no one ran away,
And all the fears were lost,
Like a needle in the hay,
The bullets departed from the bodies,
With bloody raindrops,
And people with open wounds crawled,
Like they were looking for repair shops,
But some others were taken by them,
‘Cause it was impossible to make them stop.
And with raging fires in our heart,
We stood before them,
Against a tyranny long and wide,
That walked with vanity,
An empire, senile and full of insanity,
Marching down the road,
Like a rising tide,
As they kept all the humanity aside,
That is when they caught us.
We still screamed, shouted,
But with our eyes,
Our every hope became clouded,
As we were bound by the darkest,
Force for us there can ever be,
A hell on earth anyone can ever see.
I was taken to the place they called prison,
Where innocents rotted,
Without any reason,
And I was there with every other person,
Who knew that something miraculous brewed,
Beneath the hearts that were sewed,
Together… with a belief of hopeful future,
A future with freedom as their new ruler.
Yesterday morning,
When I opened my store,
I didn’t knew that,
Fate was also opening a door,
For a place that I will never forget,
A place without any sorrow or regret,
My own VALHALLA in the midst of hell,
Where forever my heart will dwell.
Ishan Trivedi
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