Our friend in times of disrepair
A collation of all the recycled enmities of time
We regard thee as ever present
In times of peace you’ve seen trauma
In times of war you’ve been rare
I’ve earned by way of action
That which you call my grief
A silent madness in my vision
My plea goes unnoticed
My family is not free
Lesson learned and lesson forgotten
Through the wheel of time I travel
Past heroics forever taunting me
My past is a relic
My past is well travelled
Yet the future goes unnoticed
In my head I am already king
The self serving attitude remains
For me
The kingdom of heaven is within
My joy is tied to my sorrows
They’re bound together by remorse
I feel that I am travelling alone here all by myself
I’m a leader
But I’m not yours
Hari Konchada