Brutalised

The violence and blood shed

Its too much , youth is already dead it’s come to such , a collision she dread and it makes her feel numb, but numb with pain the frozen pain aches inside the frozen nerves and she shouts out to people to help , to give warmth in a frenzy they pour their coldness instead, and suddenly in a news piece she sees killings of children who are shot at head, at heart and spine exactly the organs of humanity they’re destroying they destroy and repress and kill and fire little she shouts helplessly with doll in her hand and he went to play cricket did nothing but was subjected to pellet piercing through the self the society that kills its children, the society that rapes the society that blames the victim and oppress a voice raised. She never wanted to live in a family that traumatized her she put up a fight and won and was called a separatist bitch they never wanted to live in a country that traumatized them they put up a plead and lost and were called a separatist snitch and the masses not aware of both of their traumas went on to judge and they declared the victim as the culprit and they died in the grinding stone trying to keep up with pressure but their brains got blown the fire was inside, the fire outside, everything got destroyed yet the sleeping minds of some were intact , got swayed by the ones who wanted to flame the fire to rule and the enslaved them to act so cruel No the structures never came down, how hard she tried and suffocating inside it, tragic, she died and the structures never came down to equality and power struggles saw victims causalities they all were tired, tired of fighting so hard and long and yet she was repressed again and again for being strong which humanity, what emotions they talk about the demon was their falsity and the oppression they subjected to her and to them it was an uncontrollable power lust no doubt Power raped, power killed, power repressed, power stopped her to study struggle lost, struggle killed, struggle repressed but struggle was all she could see the long road to humanity was at a distance and she kept walking towards it the grit and determination mixed with fear and paranoid streak One is god they said to her, she could see that it was one struggle that they all were going through inside or out, they all were grieving for a love who passed away they were all sick of seeing this brutality and they were all having the same frenzy yet the ones who didn’t see this ‘one’ they said god is one and it was all carried out in the name of religion her religious duties to marriage enslaved their duties to nationalism engraved stories of tragedy in blood , murder , suicides yet when she shouted they claimed god to be right and she scratched the mask of god with her nails it was the patriarch in disguise , without a trail of blood that he drank and feudalism he had woven she was shocked to unveil the secret of ‘god is one; and she walked perplexed in her mind it was he in medicines, institutes and in the scene of violence being a nationalistic kind, in the memories of childhood she rewind the scars were more than ever to be healed, yet she paved a way to see what she want herself to be, to form her own identity , and smash the patriarch the feudalistic lord, for she knew she had all enough to boycott and in her numbness, the frozen nerves, the blood still flew like a stream of river, because she knew she will stand this time and maybe influence the world, or lead to the direction quiet right. [if !supportLineBreakNewLine] [endif]

#brutality #bloodshed