What’s left of life?
Been through all shades—
Now at an age when
Heroes die.
Been through all shades—
Now at an age when
Heroes die.
Like ideals, ideology
Between hunger and thought
The same crowd, the same hunt
Between hunger and thought
The same crowd, the same hunt
To the East or the West
What’s left of breathing?
Been through all songs—
Now at an age when:
What’s left of breathing?
Been through all songs—
Now at an age when:
A raging bull falls
In line, a manufactured sheep,
A blind eye.
In line, a manufactured sheep,
A blind eye.
What’s left of life?
Been through all shades—
Now at an age when
Heroes die.
Been through all shades—
Now at an age when
Heroes die.
***
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at [email protected].
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