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Siddharth Puhan

Aid me of the Lord’s Disease/ AIDS

A patch of sand never conceived a forest

I called you home because they called me out

"Die alone you wretched creature"

Sand was hope, forest the reality.


Aid me from this disease of the heart

I still beg for pardon from the crime of extant

Days in purgatory have disillusioned me

Strike out your engagements and sleep one last time


Apology, the only medium

I can communicate with the pure bred

Destined to conquer the despot's kingdom with might

Sufficed with being declined to a mite


Answer me. I am a fallacy but you care

If I choose the means you think not too fair?

Desire to live, greater than the consequence of its by-product

Such a compromise, such a struggle


Aid me from this insufficiency for

I wonder why I was sculpted to personify it

Democracy gave voice

Self-proclaimed purists choked it away


Am I not the offspring of the devil

I don't remember my rearing but

Differencing between you and I was never a part of it

Somewhere I jumbled the words, maybe


Appeals have reached their demise

Imagining the colour of acceptance as I only see white

Depth of your eyes held a clear perspiration of disgust

"Sympathy for your tears can only appear twice"


Am I to be proud or sad, for my choices threaten you so bad

I permit you to chop off my hair and weave a basket

Drop all your mortifications and rage and

Shame in it. I'll wear it like a crown


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