Mend

a poem by Manibhushan Rao

Little angels making their way into this hell,
Straight from god’s hands into this world they fell,
From endless rainbows to mushroom clouds,
Life’s essence is trampled in crowds

You are the youth of tomorrow they say,
You are the light that banishes the shadow of the day,
You are the promise of a better tomorrow,
And my brothers died, and bled rivers of red

Look through yourself to see the other side of the mirror,
Watch your soul leave your body with a reptilian slither,
Would you bring a child into this world of perpetual nights?
Would you bring a child into this world, with hatred reaching its heights?

Breath while you can, and watch yourself fall from grace,
For your joy she will hide her longing for an embrace,
The woman of your dreams has become a mundane object,
A part of those dreams you will only see in retrospect

When did the sun set in your eyes?
When did the tears leave our cries?
We watch as hatred soaks the colour from our lives,
What explanation will we give him when he arrives?

Ask not the cost of a life,
But ask, what is the price of death?
With the salty air he will burn your skin,
As the sight of him takes your breath

This is a world of genocides and homicides, but suicides?
I guess the grass is always greener on the other side,
Sooner or later we must learn to coexist,
Because life is too short for the ways of a racist

Breathe while you can my brother,
The fault lies in you and no other,
Look in the darkest reaches of your tattered soul,
And start mending it, start from the largest hole.