A Rebel?

Louder they croak, harder I shriek

Shielding my ears tight, praying for spare hands..

Where reasoning is a God made blunder

This is humanities extreme stupid peril

They create.. they demand.. they stuff it up my head..

They forget to follow it.. labeling it as rules

In it I lost everything I had.. gone and depleted

But it survived in the flimsy thinning paper

 

It stayed arrogant, bossing the mightier humans

In hands that are obscured to truth

They say abide by it, I shield more

shrieking higher until I hear or see no more

The allergic epidemic crawls up to me

They tagged me a rebel

I run away, correcting…

A rebel fights.. I reject..

In Between

{Fiction} 

There was nothing new in the journey back home; it was just like every other day. While I was mechanically driving the car, she was calmly reading a novel. She had been reading it for the past one week, day and night that almost three fourth of it was already complete, but still she held on to it selfishly like a life jacket and read on. I had once asked her what is was about, and she said building a church. I was amused to see my wife, who can get bored by my analytical skill to be entranced by a book that talked about buildings and church; God was another thing that got her bored. She does bow down in front of the beautiful deities every morning, but never has her eyes filled with tears or her face bore a look of pain. She prays for the sake of praying, some habits die hard..