We’re a generation
Whose palms wear skins of gadgets,
Leaving eroding imprints
Of crumbling creativity
Blotted in stains of
Venom- black blood;

We’re a generation
That prefers to be veiled
In known infidelity,
Fearful to penetrate 
The buried crevices
Of our flimsy mirror-hearts;

We’re a generation
Willfully eclipsed in faces
Varied more than the moon’s phases
Our chosen delusion – a survival solution,
But truly just a calculated diversion;

We’re a generation
Mourning the present,
Lifeless puppets of passed times
Stumbling upon the wistful shores of
Tomorrow’s distant horizon;

We’re the generation astray,
The one with lost cause 
And forgotten muse-
Looking with squinted, grey eyeballs
Through smog covered minds,
Marinated in judgement
In stereotyped jars
On “religious” shelves
Buried in hidden shadows,
Safe from the rays 
Of humane conscience;

We’re the generation
With heavy eyelids, 
Tied to pulleys of
Deceit and betrayal,
Ignorant alas! 
Of our own true shades
Crushed between our reserves of
Chameleon colours;

And perhaps we’re the generation
Awaiting our rebirth,
Blessed again with human virtue,
Bathing again in creative waters,
Seeing again a filter-free world
Finding again a life-giving muse
And perhaps this time,
Holding on to what truly matters.

Krishna Samhita

Krishna is a student of English literature with a great passion for ‘conventional’ types of literary art. However, she possesses a contrasting combination of tastes. Despite her love for convention, she finds herself drawn to a lot of contemporary, or rather contrarian voices. Her thoughts themselves are often on mutually exclusive terms with general opinion. With this uncommon mix of views, she is difficult to be placed under set categories. She would love to hear her blahs bringing together more (un)like-minded sheep (pun intended!).