For The Sake Of Forthcoming Flowers Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

It's not just I who is different
The whole life is different, comrade
Thee and I too mark messy difference at times
The tides of time that move us are different
We are guided by mild mindsets
We do shun off the discourses
We sometimes come ahead as sharp people
At times, we are but playgrounds
Our thoughts aren't really weighed on
Our love isn't taken to any sacred meters
Our faiths go tightly stuck
Our dreams are tested in machines
Anyways we are allowed to have sips
We taste the cold fires in snowfalls
We meet the horrible summers nearby oceans
We are the stuff so intellectually designed
All that we come across is an abstract glimpse
We live in projected slumbers
Our everything manifests their mentality
Ah, we the poor trinkets of time
We just get ticked off in evenings
Nights even don't bother to us very much
Kissing under the censored lights, we run back
Our papers shine with stars
Our stars... they too are false stars
We just keep waiting by eventides
In the smoggy seasons our poetry is pressed
And the volumes and volumes go absurd
Emotionally we rest down
Again around the necks and chests we bite
Biting even doesn't normalize our instincts
Hungers heighten
We laugh
Our stomachs still remain empty
Empty of oranges
Empty of enigmas
Empty of inquiries
Empty of impulses
We yet walk the purely impure road-maps
Authority ignores us, we are protesters
Writers writes of us, we are public topics
We are thrilled ads, media broadcast us
We are the lovers who haven't heard hymns
We are revolutionaries who are boldly afraid
We are what we actually are not!
The dust flying in Thar drives our souls
The calm waters of Astola ignite our spirits
We are youthfully impractical
And the theories that kill the practical concepts
We have killed them
We've wrongly displayed them
We are the murderers of truth
We deserve to be historically undone
Our prayers... our performances.. all too fake
Children of tomorrow need to be pure
They mustn't be devastated
For them, let's submit our so burdened selves
Let's eventually divorce out the fairies of time
Let's all stand unashamedly naked
Paving the new paths though is difficult
Yet let's tread upon the pathway of humanity
Come back comrade, don't go too distant
For the yesternight's pennies are almost over
For the sun is to rise,
For the day ahead sounds truly enlightened
Combing the uncombed heads, let's go back
Let's leave a way for them
They need to be healed
Graceful are their lyrics
These forthcoming flowers are full of peace
Ah, Sir don't kindly chop their thinking nerves
They are the hearts having their own dances
They are the heads having their own homes
Their rise perhaps resides in our utmost fall
Let's die down without any delay
Let's get a sober go to our graves
For the lights of new day need not to be blurred