PANACEA

We live in a selfish society,

Though we look for hope,

We claim to be philanthropists,

Though we are misers,

We happen to be socialistic,

Though we hanker after glamour,

We are all hypocrites, dear. 

We all are fearless, and

We just look for shelter,

We all are creative, and

We just have dead faces,

We all are children of god, and

We just have difference in nature,

We are all hypocrites, dear. 

Our world of beautiful people,

Controlled by the extraordinary,

Represented by the brilliant,

 Great people with big hearts,

Teach us nothing more than,

A hollow silence. 

We are all hypocrites, dear. 

Masked faces

Hide the darkness within you,

Concocted, colourful reactions and 

Devilish intentions,

Kill you from inside,

Though the beautiful surface still shines,

We are all hypocrites, dear. 

Can pills treat their inner beauty? 

And make them wholesome and complete?

Can technology help?

Connect snapped strings?

Can some angel be a harbinger of peace?

And make it a better place?

We are all hypocrites, dear. 

All too often the truth is unreal,

 Conversations won't last,

As we argue without trust,

Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,

To engulf the innocents, and  

Sacrifice demands unspeakable loss.

We are all hypocrites, dear. 

But dear, problems call for solutions,

The mighty controls the clock, and  

So, don’t just let it go, and act,

Counting on your destination as your destiny,

Not to salute but force the hypocrites to disappear, and  

 The world wing back to peace.

Look and long for a little love lying in the

Lone lane of life,

To guide you home, dear.