Autobiography of riots
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With the creation
I was not born.
God is not my father.
Man started to become civilized
Then I started taking the form of seed.
When the man’s culture
started to be proud of its identity
Then my birth started to happen.
My fetus against exploitation
And Screaming, screaming of sad words
Started growing through the vibration of the voice.
.
My existence
Kept drinking blood of anger & temper.
And rested assured in a deep sleep.
In the man’s mind.
The unreal importance of supremacy in life
Slept listening to conversation
Wrapped up in the ‘Pleasanta’.
Me the child of man born in the Man
Lived as the forgotten memories.
Learned to snatch in childhood.
Guru’s order in schools
Like a disciplined event.
Unknown in the words of the books.
I did remember ‘R’ of the riot, there.
Right!
I The forest am in the mind of a man.
That forest created due to riots
Revealed itself when there is a riot, Right!
Riot Ecos in consciousness
As the broken mountains on earth
It is scattered like rocks.
Unauthorized ritual, in customs
In the bold voices
It’s my nature to boil.
The constitution of civilization is the same.
But, the culture of civilization is different.
In those sacraments
Greed, jealousy, hatred, malice, mischief,
Undefined hunger and thirst
And inhuman logic.
They the destroyer of human in man are very big.
Even if the modesty is strong.
When the human came out of the forest.
He denied the monster.
Human institutionalized the culture of respect
But the wildness could not sacrifice.
That’s why Fire burns in the human-garden.
The human mind is a cave.
In these caves men are naked in the mind and in humanity.
In these caves they are monsters from body.
In these caves they are’ the darkened darkness’ with all effort.
Human is the replica of riots in these caves.
My birthplace is the blind depth of the caves.
My birth moment is a roughing ditch of caves.
I am named here and character building too.
I’m not a blooming leaf.
I’m a thorn with ages of negativity.
I am a riot.Right.
You don’t know, I’m that much naked.
The priest who named me,
There was no one on his/her body or mind
As human cover.
In my horoscope, all the planets are assembled and one.
They are misconducted.
Ruled and inspired by the maliciousness of destruction.
I am a riot.
I am the Ganga of my thoughts.
Child-form from man to old-form of man
Nourished, nourished as man I am amazing.
My skeleton is not human but cruel monster.
My blood is not liquid, it’s poison.
My flesh and marrow originates from revenge
Revenge is the punishment I bestow.
I become, I don’t go.
I sit down like a killer.
Destruction is Pleasure for me
Man’s world is lovely.
Racism, worship-pledge of worship methods,
Ideology of welfare, wild conservationism of civilization,
The supremacy of expansion, the violent mania of man,
The inferiority of feudal thinking, empowerment over beauty,
All the hatred is the scandalism,
To my hunger.
Keeps making me live.
My sleep is Kumbhakarni with a difference.
Kumbhkarna’s sleep was awakened carefully
Mine all of a sudden.
As soon as someone bites a pinch
Of’ promise of ‘ promises’.
I get up and miserably hungry for blood.
And my thirst is red.
I become an ordinance.
As if.
‘Destructions’ my birth right and
I am from mind and body
The eviliest man of atrocity.
Excellent monster of brutality.
The whole town running, for shelter.
My ‘slogans’ are chasing while doing a joke.
City border or until his death.
Rape of the weak.
Collective torture on those who are strong.
The height of my man I agree.
History writes it condemnable and misdeed.
Write, what about me?
I will come again.
When in the city streets
Dead bodies float in blood
The cry echoes in the sky.
The smell fills in the air
The plea of mercy in voices
I am hilarious, I am a riot.
I have been old since birth.
I don’t get killed.
When humanity rises, I run away.
But, here I come again.
My wish is aspiration too.
Someone bit me.
Stop my humanity from scattering.
Self-doubt dominates the ‘ type of promise s’.
Illiteracy of self-governance is a claim. –
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